


Details

by tarori



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Alcohol, Broken nose, Kinda Humor, Light-Hearted, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nosebleed, POV Multiple, Pining, Vomiting, kinda slice of life, relationships tagged in order of importance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 42,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarori/pseuds/tarori
Summary: Secrets can also be told by corporal language and Ciaran is too good at reading it.
Relationships: Artorias the Abysswalker/Lord's Blade Ciaran, Lord's Blade Ciaran & Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Minor or Background Relationship(s), The Nameless King/Dragon Slayer Ornstein
Comments: 136
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

Being part of the Lord’s Blade gives you the ability to see things beyond of what they can appear at first sight. For example, Artorias scratches his nose whenever he is nervous. When Gough feels uneasy talking to someone, he tends to glance over the head of that person. And if Ornstein is excited, he will clench and unclench his hands many times.

Ciaran learned that kind of signs after spending many years together, either on the battleground or at the city. And, thanks to that, it was so much easier to understand her friends and their emotions, to be a support to them and made them feel comfortable around her.

From time to time, when Ciaran wasn’t on duty, she liked to go for a walk around the gardens of the castle. It felt good to be able to take a break from hiding all the time in the shadows, trying to sneak secrets or complots that attempts on the lives of the royal family, and enjoy the fresh air and the sound of birds chirping instead.

Ciaran brought a book with her and when she found a good place under the shadow of a tree, she sat down and started to read. The book was borrowed from Artorias and it was about a minstrel who had to find a way to save his wife from a fearful warlock. It wasn’t the kind of story she was into, but he insisted so many times to give it a chance she couldn’t refuse at the end.

After reading a few more chapters into the story, Ciaran started to hear the sound of metal colliding. The sound caught her attention instantly, and then she realised that the training field was really close to that garden. After deciding to close the book and standing up, it took her no time to be there. Resting her folded arms and the book on top the wall above it, Ciaran looked down and under her, Silver Knights were sparring in couples and Ornstein was walking between them, correcting movements and positions that they were doing wrong.

Ciaran observed him and how he acted around other knights, and thought about how different his friend was when he was out of his duties. Shy, nervous and reserved were the first adjectives that popped into her mind, but down there he seemed really stoic and secure of himself.

On top of the stairs that lead to the training field, Ciaran noticed a figure standing there. She looked better and recognised the prince, calm and watching the other knights. His presence didn’t go unnoticed for a long time. One Silver Knight saw him and started whispering with his partner, and soon, all of them were fully aware. Ornstein first response was to shut them up and made them to keep working. Then, he walked over to the prince, and they started talking.

Now, Ciaran observed them and the way they interacted: how Ornstein bowed after being in front of the prince, the way the prince tilted his head and looked at him, or how they talked with such proximity that probably it was difficult to hear even standing mere feets away.

She recalls them when they were beginning to be master and student. The first week after Ornstein was put away from their unit to start his training, he always tried to sneak to her room made a ball of anxiety. He was as bad as making friends back them as he is now and besides her, he only had Artorias but they weren’t as fond of each other in the past. And in the training field, were his pupils were now, a really clumsy Ornstein learned how to be this relentless knight. They both have grown from that. Even the prince, who hadn’t been as kind as he is now, and had had an extremely short fuse, even shorter than in the present.

“How times flies”, Ciaran sighed almost nostalgic, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand.

Suddenly, something strange in Ornstein’s posture caught her eyes. When the prince laid his hand on Ornstein’s shoulder pad, the knight straightened himself even further and all his body started screaming with nervousness.

Ciaran tilted her head, confused. All that tension didn’t make any sense to her because they have been really close for many years. Now, something in her wanted to be hidden in the shadows near them, so she could listen to whatever they were talking that made her friend switch his mood unexpectedly.

The prince left after a while when they finished talking, and Ornstein turned to face his knights, still practicing. But the second he took one step, his spear slipped from his hand. It caused a really strident sound, making some of the Silver Knights to turn towards him for a few seconds, and even making the prince to stop and look behind him.

Ciaran furrowed his eyebrows, because that spear was like an extension of Ornstein’s arm, and nobody has ever seen him treating it so carelessly. She hummed, thinking about his apparently unjustified nervousness. It was as clear as water that something was happening to her friend.

When he picked his weapon from the floor, he looked first at his knights and then to his surroundings. The prince let out a soft chuckle when Ornstein met his eyes before he kept walking. At last, his eyes laid on Ciaran. She smiled, raising her hand to greet him and Ornstein only raised his hand slightly in a brief movement before resuming his lessons. Probably, this was a really awkward situation for him. At that moment, she only wanted to know what was on his mind.

After spending the rest of the evening wandering around the castle, dinner time came in the blink of an eye and Ciaran found herself surrounded by her fellows in the dining hall. The place was full of Silver Knights already hungry enough to eat a big cow, talking so loud it was nearly impossible to listen to another knight if he or she was sitting two sites apart. Ciaran always prefered quieter places, but she has to admit that seeing everybody in high spirits made her feel really happy.

The royal family were always seated at the front, and the tables near them were reserved to the Knights of Gwyn, guests and other captains. So Ciaran walked through all the tables after she was near her site. Gough, who was already there, greeted her by raising a big hand when their eyes met. She returned the greeting, and after bowing to the lords, she took a sit near his friend and, no longer after, Ornstein appeared by their side, also bowing to the lords and taking a sit in front of them.

Ciaran was starting to put food on her plate when Gough’s voice echoed besides her. He didn’t need to raise his voice at all. “How was your day off so far?”

“Oh, it was really pleasant. I spent most of the time taking walks around or reading books.”

“Sounds relaxing. I’m glad to hear you enjoyed your day”. He was looking down to her with a little smile, and she returned the gesture.

Before speaking, Ciaran looked briefly at Ornstein, who gazed for a second at the royal family. He has barely looked at her after taking off his helmet and probably it was because he was still embarrassed.

“Although, I think I want to be on duty tomorrow, so much idleness is starting to bore me”, she said, looking back at Gough.

“But you only have been half a day off”, suddenly, Ornstein spoke, “you should rest during this two days.”

When their eyes met he looked away quickly, rubbing his nape.

 _He is still embarrassed_ , she confirmed to herself.

“Oh, but look who’s talking!”, Ciaran grinned, and Gough chuckled softly. Maybe, with a joke, he would lighten up. “When was the last time you take a day off, Sir ‘I have to finish this tonight’?”

He rolled his eyes in response, sighing. “It’s not the same, your duties are more stressful than training knights or doing reports.”

“Then, how come you never have free time?” She smiled when Ornstein looked at her, with his eyes torned and the ghost of a smile in his lips.

“That’s… none of your business, Ciaran.”

“It’s because Ornstein is awful at managing his working time,” Gough said abruptly, teasing him.

“Gough!”, he looked at him, with his eyebrows raised. Ciaran and Gough chuckled at his reaction. “That’s not true! And this is not the point,” Ornstein, then, turned to Ciaran, pointing her with his fork, “if I see you tomorrow on duty I’ll kick your ass”.

 _A complete success_ , she thought, with a content smile.

She noticed Ornstein looked briefly again at the royal family while their laughing was coming to a stop.

“Then, what do you suggest me to do?”, she asked. Her eyes had a questioning look, but not because she was concerned about filling her free time.

“Weren’t you saying you have a lot of books to read?”

“I’m not going to be reading all day, Ornstein.”

“What about finding a new hobbie? Maybe learn to do something? It’s good to have your mind working on other things.” Gough suggested.

“Well, I already tried a few things. Painting, writing, and even sewing. But nothing really caught my interest.”

“Sewing?” Gough remarked incredulous, arching an eyebrow while looking down at Ciaran.

“Yes, can you imaging me?”

They both laughed, but Ornstein was really quiet. When Ciaran looked at him, she caught him again staring at the royal family’s table.

 _Why so much insistence?_ Following his gaze discreetly, she discovered he was observing the prince.

Ornstein became aware about the silent really quickly and looked back to Ciaran and Gough. The second he noticed that Ciaran was already staring at him, he blushed slightly.

 _Okey… something is happening here_ , she said to herself.

“What about cooking?” Ornstein’s voice came in a whisper, so he cleared his throat before repeating himself.

“And how I’m going to learn? Everybody is too busy to help me.”

“I can lend you some easy recipes that have everything explained”, Gough said and the other two looked at him with an incredulous expression.

“Do you know how to cook?” Ornstein was the first to ask and Ciaran looked briefly at him, but before she returned her gaze to Gough, she caught a glimpse of Ornstein’s plate. He wasn’t eating at all.

“Of course! When my mother was still alive I usually cooked to her the days I was able to be out of Anor Londo,” he explained before looking down to Ciaran and placing a big hand in her back, “the recipes are really easy to follow so you must not worry.”

Ciaran looked thoughtful, but mostly because Ornstein has been acting a little bit weird. He got unjustifiably nervous around the prince, he hadn’t stopped looking at him, and then he wasn’t even eating. She looked at Ornstein for a moment, and caught him staring again.

Then, something snapped in her mind, but the idea was as probable as crazy.

_Could it be..._

“Alright…”, she said slowly, gazing up at Gough, “I could give it a change if they are easy. Then, if you don’t mind, I will go to your room and pick them up tomorrow.”

“Of course!”

“I can lend you some recipes too,” Ornstein offered, removing his food with his fork.

_Could it be that he has feelings towards him? Holy shit. Holy shit!_

That was a really huge thing and she wanted to ask him right away, but instead, she forced herself to be calm because it wasn’t the moment. Discreetly, she took a deep breath to let out his excitement.

Suddenly, the main doors of the dining hall went open and a group of knights walked to the last free table. They all looked really tired, and when the food was placed in front of them, they gobbled it down. All of them were still wearing a coat, and after looking more carefully, Ciaran recognized them as the group that Artorias was leading in his current mission.

“Hm, so Artorias has just arrived. They were expecting to be back by tomorrow. That’s a good thing.” Ornstein said, who was also looking at them, more to himself than to his friends.

Ciaran looked back at his plate, with a sudden relief filling her. Probably he was so tired he didn’t wanted to make all the way to there and then back to his room. So, she decided to finish her food and bring something to eat to Artorias.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I don't know too much about tagging, so as the fanfic progress I will modify the tags and warn you all on the notes at the start of the chapter in case the future tags trigger you


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I updated the tags, just to let you know in case you want to check them

When the Knights of Gwyn were designated, their rooms were transferred to another chambers closer to the royalty for them to be reached sooner, and to be closer to the rest of the captains, but Artorias was the exception, requesting to keep his first chamber, near every Silver Knight he has ever meet and were still alive. Ciaran have never cursed so much his decision until that moment.

Heading to Artorias’ room, she walked past the knights who were returning to their own rooms, talking and making jokes with their fellows and filling the corridors with cheerfulness. Ciaran barely looked at them while crossing the corridor, but she sensed their gazes upon her, and she hated it. She knew they looked at her because it was extremely rare to see her at all, and if she could avoid them with a plate full of food on her hands she would. The only problem was that there wasn’t other way to his room where she didn’t have to come across any other knight.

When Ciaran was finally in front of his door, she knocked it quickly and awaited for his voice allowing her to enter, trying not to look at the two Silver Knights chatting on the next door.

The room was almost dark when she entered, only illuminated by the soft light of the moon entering from the open window. In the darkness, she could discern Artorias’ silhouette moving in his bed to light his nightstand candle.

His armor was lying carelessly all over the floor and she had to step carefully between the empty spaces to not trip over while approaching the bed. Ciaran observed his face, slightly illuminated by the candle. His dark hair have grown up, reaching his jaw, which was covered by a full beard. It was weird to look at, like he was a different man.

“I’m glad to see you back, Artorias,” she said softly. He was also looking at her, from head to toe, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a hand. On his mouth was placed a sleepy smile.

“The same to you, Ciaran.”

She took a seat at the end of the bed, carefully to not sit on his feet, and extended the plate to him. “I suppose you were sleeping so I brought you some food.” The mattress was quite hard, like every other knight’s bed.

“Oh, you are my saviour!” he responded, looking with hungry eyes at the plate and taking it from her hands, “I don’t know what would I do without you.”

“Come on, don’t exaggerate it,” she said it with a plain tone, but under her mask she couldn’t suppress a smile, feeling a tickling sensation on her stomach.

 _Oh, Artorias…_ How many times has she awaited for his return and how many times has she dreamed with him, and finally, at that moment, she could be right there, looking at him.

After a while, when Ciaran was calmer, she took off her mask. Artorias switched his gaze between the plate and her from time to time, and when he stopped chewing to swallow, he has a little smile playing on his lips.

“I know what you are thinking. And I’ll shave it tomorrow.”

 _If you only really knew what my real thoughts are…_ But Ciaran went along. “You look like an old man, I think it suits you, it gives you a wiser look, you know” she teased.

“Very funny, you really have what it takes to be a jester” Artorias responded by softly pushing her with his foot. “Are you going to suggest it to Lord Gwyn?” She let out a chuckle and he joined her.

At that time, Artorias finished the food, and let out a sigh. “Seriously, you have saved me. I was starving but couldn’t stand anymore.” Ciaran only gave him a sympathetic smile.

“By the way, how was your mission?” She moved closer and without thinking, she placed a hand on his leg.

Something changed on Artorias’ face, and Ciaran was taken aback by it. His smile wasn’t as wide anymore, and he averted his eyes from her. On top of that, he started to scratch his nose, nervous, and moved his foot away slowly.

“Um…” She quickly returned her hand to her lap. “Everything went fine but we couldn’t find the dragon’s nest.”

Ciaran didn’t know what really have happened, but it didn’t stop her to scold herself mentally for making this situation awkward.

“What matters is that everybody could make it home.” Ciaran simply said, looking away from him.

“But I’m afraid that’s not what Lord Gwyn is looking forward.”

An awkward silence was placed between them, and Ciaran could felt her heart starting to pound faster, thinking about reasons for him to react like that.

After what felt like an eternity, Artorias finally talked again. “And… how have you been?”

Her eyes snapped to him, bringed back to reality by his voice.

“Oh… Well... You know…” She moved one of her hands in a belittle move, and, at the same time, Artorias flinched slightly. He tried to hide it by recolocating himself on the bed but Ciaran noticed it, and a bitter feeling appeared at the pit of her stomach, “just… the usual, working everyday.” She regretted taking her mask off, losing the only way to hide her bitter expression. “But tomorrow I have a day off. Maybe…” _Don’t say it._ “Uhm… Do you want to go for a walk after dinner?”

 _Damn it,_ she thought, _now I’m making things worse._

Artorias looked at her with a frown, scratching his nose again. “I don’t think I can… I’m sorry, Ciaran.”

She nodded slowly, looking now at the empty plate on his lap, her way out of her pitiful display, and pointed at it. “Did you finish?”

“Uhm, yes, but don’t worry. I’ll clean it by myself,” he responded, looking down at it and scratching his nose again.

Oh, please stop, she really hated being the reason why he is nervous and uncomfortable.

“No, I have no problem in doing it for you.”

He seemed reluctant at first, but when Ciaran hold a hand in front of her, he ended giving the plate. “Thank you again, honestly.”

“Nevermind,” she put on her mask again, and a relieve feeling started to fill her up. Then, she stood up and looked for the last time at his face, “rest well, my friend.”

“You too, Ciaran.”

When she closed the door behind her, Ciaran let out a hopeless sigh, feeling like an idiot for ruining their first encounter after weeks.

After cleaning the plate at the kitchen, she started her way back to her room. She couldn’t stop thinking about Artorias and how he reacted back then. It felt like someone have kicked her on the stomach and at the same time it made her feel really hopeless. Looking at it, if he reacted like that only because she slightly touched him, she could never be closer to him, and if she couldn’t, the chances for her feelings to be requited will be nonexistent.

She let out a sight. _What a great way to end the day._

Walking through different corridors in complete silent, she reached one that was open to a garden. Giving it a quick look, Ciaran distinguished Ornstein’s armour, and she stopped to give him a better look. He was sitting alone in the fountain of the garden, playing with the plume of his helmet resting in his lap.

Ciaran considered if she should go by his side and talk to him, and after a moment, she couldn’t stop her feet from moving. Maybe it was a good time to ask him about what was going on with the prince.

“Hey, Captain,” she tried to sound cheerful. After hearing her, Ornstein gasped softly, turning his face to Ciaran, “what are you doing here all alone?”

“Damn it, Ciaran, you gave me a fright.”

In any other moment, she would have laughed, but right there, she didn’t have the energies to. Instead, she only sat besides him, receiving a look from Ornstein before he returned to play with the plume, with a thoughtful expression placed on his face.

“I could ask you the same question,” he said, “why are you still awake?”

Ciaran looked at her hands covered by her gauntlets and bit her bottom lip under the mask. “I went to check on Artorias.”

“Mm… How is he?”

“He is fine, tired but without any injury. You will hear about the mission tomorrow.” Ornstein only nodded, and the silence was placed between them.

That night, the air was cold and the sky clean, with the full moon shining above them. Ciaran watched the sky for a while after turning to face him. It was a good moment to ask.

“Ornstein…” She stopped midway after looking at him. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his glance, fixed on his helmet, was cherless. He also had his hair down, out of the usual updo he always wore and somehow, he looked vulnerable. “Why are you still awake?”

Ciaran couldn’t ask.

Ornstein raised a hand to put a lock of red hair behind his ear before looking at her. “Prince Gwynsen wanted to talk to me.”

She recognized the same feeling that was inside her on his voice, trying to be masqueraded with indifference. Then, everything was settled, and she understood that Ornstein was in the same situation as her.

Ciaran had to suppress a sigh before speaking, “Ornstein, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m here for you.”

What Ciaran said seemed to hit something inside Ornstein, making him straighten, and she noticed how his grip on his helmet tightened. “Why do you say that?”

“You look gloomy,” she said with a soft voice.

Ornstein observed her for a few seconds. “I’m not gloomy, I’m just… thoughtful. I guess. Nothing to worry.” He tried to form a smile, which turned into a weird grimace, but at the end he only turned his face away, murmuring slightly, “Thank you…”

“Don’t need to thank me anything, captain.” Ornstein only nodded and went back to play with the plume.

“Do you want me to leave or…?” Ciaran asked carefully after a while.

“No, no, stay. I mean... you can stay if you want. I… like your companie.” She smiled under her mask.

Maybe he wouldn’t talk to her, but the least she could do was not to leave him alone, and if that was what he needed then she would felt happy to do it.

They fell again in a silent, only interrupted by the noises of crickets and the breeze.

 _What a pair of fools we are…_ , she thought, following with her eyes the lines of a constellation.

“So, do you know why Ornstein wasn’t eating last night? Is he alright?”

Ciaran averted her eyes from the woodcarvings collection of Gough, who was searching inside of a trunk for the recipes he promised her. Neither of them were actually sleepyheads, so Ciaran was knocking on his chambers at a very early hour.

She looked at his back. “Yeah, he was having an stomach ache.”

Then, Gough turned to her, in his hands were several sheet.

“Here, I found them,” Ciaran stepped closer, grabbing them from his extended hand, “I hope he feels better by now.”

“Me too.”

She looked down, reading the content of the first page. The papers were bigger than the usual, and out of what she was expecting, the handwriting was very clean and understandable.

“Thank you Gough, I promise to bring them back as soon as possible.”

“You don’t have to hurry, keep them as long as you want.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, giving him a smile.

Skimming the recipe one last time, she headed to the kitchen, wondering if the maids would let her use it during the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Ornstein turned on his bed, laying on his side, drowsy and fighting the urge to fall asleep again. A gentle breeze came into the room through the opened window, joined by the first rays of dawn, making him feel in peace, more relaxed than ever, tucked in the soft warm sheets. Still, somewhere inside his mind, the urge to wake up was starting to make sense, and letting out a muffled noise, he stretched and opened his eyes, using all of his willpower. 

His attempt, unfortunately, was stopped by a hand, which tenderly touched his cheek. The warmth coming from it made him to stop moving and to want to close his eyes again. Then, Ornstein felt the pressure of a pair of lips on his forehead and how the same hand moved to caress his loose hair.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Ornstein hummed and smiled at the sound of his voice, moving closer to rest his head on Gwynsen’s arm.

He let out a soft giggle when Ornstein’s hand started to trace a path from his arm to his shoulder and back again, and when his foot started to caress his, trying to intertwine them. Gwynsen’s response was to close the gap and rest his forehead on his knight’s, before starting to leave gentle kisses on Ornstein’s nose. 

“I have to go, my lord,” the voice of Ornstein came in a whisper. 

He opened his eyes just in time to see the prince pouting. It was a look that didn’t fit him at all. “I don’t want you to go now...”

“We’ll see each other later.” He raised a hand and started to caress Gwynsen’s check with his thumb.

“But it’s not the same,” the prince grunted, burying his face in the palm, “I want to spent more time with you like this…” 

The golden eyes of the prince were looking at him with pity before he moved forward and kissed Ornstein with tenderness. The knight, immediately, was carried away and returned the kiss, after the touch fainted, the warm was a mere illusion and Ornstein opened his eyes, for real this time, alone in his chambers except by the figure of his armor resting in its stand. 

He let out a loud grunt, passing his hand all over his face and rubbing his tired eyes at the end. This was not the first dream he had like that, actually, he had been having them for a whole week, preventing him to get proper sleep and making him feel like absolute shit for his stupid feelings. He was getting tired of them and, at that point, he even prefered actual nightmares than dreaming with the prince at all.

Ornstein laid on his back and looked at the barely opened window. It was still dark, apparently, there were a few hours left after dawn, and there was no breeze coming through it. Totally the opposite of his dream.

He turned over in his bed and buried his face on his pillow, wondering why the gods have decided to torture him with dreams he could never reach, visualising the sins he insisted on over and over again.

Letting out a sigh, he gazed at the silhouette of his armor. Unintentionally, he remembered the prince’s smile while he was touching the plume of his helmet that night, rumbling about the softness of it, the birds owners of that feathers and other birds he has read on the book’s archives. 

When the prince talked about things he was passionate about, Ornstein always felt an unjustified joy filling him. Maybe it was because the emotion within his voice, or the spark of his eyes, or the way he expressed himself making everything he said so interesting to hear. He couldn’t choose one cause, and before he noticed, he has a sad smile on his own face.

 _I deserve this punishment,_ he thought. 

As Ornstein expected, he didn’t sleep at all after he woke up. While putting his armor, he felt like he would collapse from the weight in any moment, but, at least, he was grateful for having his helmet on to cover his irremediable sour face. 

He didn’t want to even leave his room nor to attend the military meeting he was required for to decide what they would do after Artorias arrival. Of course, the prince would be there, and on top of that, he was already late, so he tried to walk as fast as he could, thinking about the reprimand he would get from Lord Gwyn. The knight couldn’t help but sigh. He just didn’t feel like having energies to handle any of that at the moment and he only wanted to end that day as soon as possible.

When Ornstein reached the meeting room’s corridor he saw prince Gwynsen, not expecting him there, standing in front of the door, focused on playing with some frayed thread of his robes. The clinking of his armor made the prince raise his eyes to him, and Ornstein even dithered on keep walking before the intensity of his gaze.

_Not only the last person I wanted to see right now, but I will get scolded two times, great…_

“Ornstein!” With the sound of his voice, although, his heart jumped with as much happiness as nervousness.

When the knight was at his side, he limited himself to bow. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Why did it take you so long?” the prince has a furrow and his arms were folded, “You already know my father require punctuality.”

Unintentionally, Ornstein remembered his dream and his hand clenched on his spear, uncomfortable.

“I overslept, your highness, I beg your pardon.” 

“That’s unlike you…”, his expression changed to a thoughtful one and took a step closer to the knight, tilting his head, “Are you alright?”

Ornstein swallowed hard. “Ah… It was only a stomach ache. I think I’m fine now.”

“Right, last night I noticed you didn’t eat at all.” His words left a weird feeling on Ornstein, not sure if he really wanted to know the prince had time to observe him last night, when he was busy talking to his siblings. “Do you need anything? You know I can ask my sister to cure you, she will be happy to do so.”

Out of habit, Ornstein smiled politely, despite he couldn’t be seen. “I really appreciate your concern, my lord. But truly, I’m fine now.” 

The prince let out a sigh and straighten himself. “Well, if you say so… But if you need anything, just let me know, all right? Now, let’s get inside,” he said pointing at the door with a finger, before he opened it.

Gwynsen entered with his knight right behind him, and the first thing Onstein saw was Artorias in a really uncomfortable pose on his seat, then he looked at Lord Gwyn, who was massaging his temples, sitting at the front of the table. Quickly, his turned eyes laid on his son, then on Ornstein and back again on his son.

“Where were you?” He demanded dryly. “Why are you so late?”

“I required Sir Ornstein to talk about an important matter, father, we are sorry for our delay.” The prince lowered his head in a sign of apology, and Lord Gwyn grimaced.

That made Ornstein speechless, not expecting the prince would tell a lie to cover him. It was… a really nice act coming from him.

Ornstein gave a quick look around the room and noticed that, beside the usual captains, Havel was there instead of Gough. He wondered why such change. 

“An important matter? Right when we are dealing with a new group of dragons?” A weird silence was setted on the room, before the Lord took a deep long breath. “Just take a sit. We already had to discuss a lot of matters.”

Taking a seat next to the prince, he briefly looked at his side. The prince looked at him, and made a quick grimace of annoyance, forcing Ornstein to suppress a smile under his helmet before taking it off. 

Ornstein cursed the dragonkin when the meeting was over. Lord Gwyn have assigned him the task to form a new group to search that damn nest. Of all the things he could have been doing that day, searching files on the knights archives was far from his first option. 

And it has to be done by the next day on the morning! He was not the only one, of course, everybody had tasks for tomorrow morning, but were more interesting that spending all day reading. Besides, that didn't give him the chance to cross more than a few words with Artorias, not having enough time to do so and thinking about the huge pile of reports he had to check that day, sitting on his desk and awaiting for him.

Ornstein grunted when he arrived at the room and saw all the shelves filled with scrolls. 

_I don’t have the energy to do this..._

After what felt like an eternity and with several scrolls under his arm, Ornstein searched for an specific shelf, not hearing the door being opened, and, as stubborn as he was, he tried to reach the last scroll of the batch by standing on his tiptoes. When the prince’s arm handled him the scroll from the top shelf, he jumped out of surprise and the rest of the scrolls he was holding escaped from his grip.

“Oh, damn it!” he exclaimed, lowering himself to gather them up.

“Last time I checked I wasn’t that ugly,” murmured the prince with a joking tone. Ornstein raised his head despite Gwynsen could not see his astonished expression through his helmet. “I’m sorry to scare you.”

He also lowered himself and helped Ornstein picking the last few rolls within his reach, handing them at last.

“You don’t need to apologize, your highness,” he said, walking to one of the tables at the center of the room and putting down all the scrolls.

After taking a seat, Ornstein took off his helmet and the second his face was uncovered, the prince let out a whistle. “You have some big bags under your eyes, there. How much did you sleep?” he said, also taking a seat in front of him and grabbing a scroll.

_Great, that’s what I need, the prince pointing out how bad I look._

Ornstein attempted, at least, to smile despite his head’s nervous shouthings and the urge to put back his helmet.

“I don’t know, maybe just a couple of hours,” he answered, and the prince raised his eyebrows. Before he said anything, Ornstein speaked again, “if I may ask, your highness, what are you doing here?”

The prince’s eyes averted from the words on the paper and looked directly at Ornstein’s face.

“I thought you may need help, you looked really tired during the meeting.” Ornstein looked down at the scroll, feeling a tingling at the pitch of his stomach. “And if I’m being honest, I prefer spending time with you than be near my father today, he is in a real bad mood.”

The knight didn’t know what type of face he should do, and his mouth run after he could thought at all. “Did you two argued?” So, the second the words left his mouth, he covered it with his hand, looking at the prince with his eyes opened, “I’m so sorry, your highness, I should have not asked about that.”

The prince grimaced in awe. “What are you talking about? It’s incredible that at this point you don’t know you can ask me anything…”

“But it’s not appropriate, I should not get involved in personal stuff.”

Ornstein looked briefly above the scroll and saw the prince looking at him with his head resting on the palm of his hand and the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“You don’t need to be this honorable…” he said before sighing. “I told you enough things to stop worrying about that. And by the way, we didn’t argued actually, but he pointed that I was being irresponsible and should consider what kind of image I was given to the captains I will lead in the future, and that I shouldn’t drag you into my irresponsibilities. You know, the usual.”

The knight felt ashamed and guilty. “I’m really sorry to hear that, my lord. I beg you to allow me to take the responsibi-”

“Oh, shut up,” the prince interrupted him, making a belittle move with his hand. “It’s not like I can handle some scolding from my father. For once, don’t worry, please.” He had a playful smile on his face, while resuming his reading.

In silence, Ornstein looked at his face and the movement of his eyes following the lines of the scroll. He thought he needed to say something.

“Thank you, my lord.” The only response he obtained was a gaze above the scroll accompanied with a kind smile.

His subconscious acted against him, and Ornstein found himself admiring the prince’s features and his serious expression, thinking about how handsome he is. Then, his gaze fixated on his crown for a second, making his thoughts coming to an abruptly stop, and started to read the knight file he was holding.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I updated the tags, maybe you should check them first before reading the chapter.

A whole week was Ciaran’s limit. She couldn’t bear anymore with Artorias unexpectedly ignoring her without any reason. Everything between them turned weird after that night, but it was absolutely incomprehensible that a slightly touch pissed Artorias. God dammit, Artorias was the most touchy-feely person she had ever know, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and whenever Artorias had the opportunity he was hugging her or picking Ciaran up to piss her.

So, one evening, when Ciaran was overthinking, she decided to find him. After trying several places without luck, he was on an old training field with a big wood pole on the middle. Many years have passed since that field was used for the last time because how small it was, weeds were growing between the floor stones and dust was being accumulated on the corners. 

Artorias was sat on the floor, with his back resting on the wall and his greatsword laying besides him. She guessed he was probably training despite he wasn’t wearing his armour and approached him.

“Oh, Ciaran!” He had a tiny smile placed on his lips, even though his eyes looked up at her with a weird expression, “what… what are you doing here?”

The training field was at the back of the castle and Ciaran could see the royal garden and the sun starting to go down, approaching the sunset, from there. She didn’t have a lot of time, soon, Ciaran had to meet the other Blade’s to start their mission, and trying to be as frank as possible, she asked, “Have I done anything to you?” 

Involuntary, she folded her arms, a part of her not wanting to really face the answer.

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve been weird with me since you arrived. I want to know why.”

“I…” He cleared his throat and averted his eyes from her, “I have not been weird with you.”

Ciaran frowned under her mask. “Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. You know what you have been doing and if anything is wrong, if I have done anything to you I want to know what it was, please.” Artorias only shrugged as a response, and she let out a breath before speaking again. “You are avoiding me. If you are angry or...”

“I’m not angry at you,” he interrupted, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Ciaran’s head was full of questions staking up each other without any order and he wasn’t helping denying his acts.

“Then, would you, please, tell me the truth? I want us to be like always.”

Artorias moved uncomfortably before he raised to his feet and looked down at her. “I don’t know what you mean, Ciaran, I’ve been the same.”

She took a deep breath. “Why are you lying? Every time we see each other you always run away with some dumb excuse when you normally talk with me.”

“I think you are exaggerating,” Artorias said, folding his arms.

That made her feel really upset and squinted. “Artorias you even ignore me at dinner. I’m asking you a simple question, so we can clear up whatever I did to piss you.”

“But I’ve told you already! Nothing happened, how many times do I have to tell you?” He extended his arms in front of him, starting to feel irritated.

A silent felt between them and Ciaran found herself at a lost of words, frustrated and not knowing what to say or do. Normally, when she didn’t have an answer she would resort to a more aggressive way to ask, but this was not an interrogatory and Artorias was his friend.

Artorias looked at her, only by a brief moment and took a step back. “Look, it’s not that deep, seriously. I’ve been really busy,” He scratched his nose and avoided to look at her. Ciaran turned her eyes, and when he moved his hand to start scratching the back of his neck she had enough. “With this whole mission I-”

“I know you are lying with only a look! Could you be more obvious? Artorias you are starting to piss me off, you are not like this! You always hate being in bad terms, then why don’t you want to tell me your problem with me?” He puffed and folded his arms. “At least you could look at me when you say such lies.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well. Maybe you are interpreting other things because you are being paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” That really offended her. “How could you call me paranoid?”

“If you weren’t, you would believe me.”

“I would believe you if you told me the damn truth,” she grunted, “we are getting nowhere… Damn it.”

He bit his lip, frowning his eyebrows. “Maybe the problem, Ciaran, is that you can’t pretend that I have to be attentive to you all the time.”

 _What_.

She fell silent, processing what he just said. Anger finally took place inside her, she didn’t expected Artorias could say something like that, and that hurted her.

“I don’t want your damn attention, Artorias. Don’t be so arrogant,” she took a step back. “I get it, you don’t want to tell me your damn problem, but that’s not an excuse to attack me like that.”

Artorias only shrugged, not looking at her, and it pissed her even more. He was brave enough to tell such thing but without looking at her eyes.

She grunted. “When you want to talk like a grown man, find me. I’ll leave you alone.”

Ciaran didn’t wait for an answer and left as fast as she could. She didn’t notice her hands trembling when she arrived where the other Blades were awaiting and one of them pointed it out. Ciaran was a bit startled and dismissed it, grabbing the handle of her tracers to calm her down and taking a deep breath before talking.

She had a puddle of emotions inside her. Anger, sadness, disbelief… She wanted to punch someone, to scream, to let of her disappointment out. But Ciaran had to speak as calm and collected as she was expected to do.

When they rehearsed their common plan, the sun was completely down, meaning it was time to start. They all parted to the city from different paths except Ciaran. She wanted to take a moment to let her mind rant about that discussion before she could think straight again and forget about it for a few hours.

It was completely dark when she descended at the lower part of the city, near the walls. It was the less rich part, where no gods lived but peasants and travellers. Most of the Silver Knights came from there, trying to make a living out of the military and help their families with a big part of the money they earned. Also, in that place were all the not so famous taverns, where every night a pair of drunk man picked a fight over some dumb misunderstanding, and the modest businesses, where the farmers tried to sell the few products they had.

On the streets, the average citizen didn’t know about the Blades, so it always produced an excitement on Ciaran. During her mission, Ciaran had to listen to the conversations of strangers, searching for any sign of uprising. To do that, she had to climb roofs and try to be as low as possible, and thanks to the houses’ structure it was really easy to hear people talking out of the windows. From experience, she prioritized the houses with closed windows. Unless you were not at home, it was something weird and probably meant someone was hiding something from the neighbours.

Ciaran always prefered this missions over sneaking around soldiers and servants. They all were too loyal to Lord Gwyn and their problems always related to the castle, but out there, she could hear the real life, actual problems, amazing stories... It was far more interesting and had higher probabilities to find out problems. On the past few decades, all the “jobs” were related to groups of citizens because they were more prone to be unsatisfied with the rules, specially those humans.

That night the breeze helped to calm her down. Ciaran really needed it and between her jumps from one roof to the next one, she couldn’t help to think that maybe she could have acted differently while talking to Artorias. Maybe she did want his attention, and maybe he was right. After all, she was complaining about him ignoring her. In fact, it’s the same of wanting attention, right?

Suddenly, one of her foot slipped at the edge of the roof and fell forward. Fortunately, half of her body was still on top of it and she could pick her up.

Ciaran let out a long breath, cursing and feeling pain in her torso. _This day could only go from bad to worse…_ she thought.

And not longer after, to prove her words, one window caught her eyes, making her to stop and look better at the warm room in front of her and the lovely couple sitting at the fire, cooking their dinner. From where she was, Ciaran could see the woman’s face, soft features and blonde hair tidied up. She was laughing between his arms while he was gesturing telling some kind of story. The man had the same black hair as Artorias, and once again, Ciaran was thinking of him. She observed them for a long time, longing something she couldn’t have.

 _This sucks_ , she thought after the impotence wasn’t unbearable anymore and averted her gaze, focusing on listening the voices from the house bellow her. 

For the rest of the night, she didn’t look at any open window and avoided the darkness hallways where couples tended to express their love.

Two days later, Ciaran’s night shifts ended, and when she could be in her chambers during the night, she couldn’t sleep at all. Since their discussion, Artorias was avoiding her even further and his words were repeating non stop in her mind. The possibility of him being tired of her and fed up of their friendship was unbearable, and she felt powerless against the thought of it. Talking again was out of question, apparently, and she didn’t want to involve other people to figure out his problem.

After a long sigh, Ciaran decided to get out of the bed and headed to the kitchen to prepare an infusion that would calm her and help her to sleep. 

When she reached it, she noticed there was already someone there. A soft light could be seen from the door, and she let out a soft grunt. She didn’t feel the energy to come across anybody right now and start any conversation so late at night. 

Resigned, Ciaran went as quiet as possible to the shelves where the servants kept the herbs and picked what she needed along with a mortar. She took a look from where she couldn’t be seen before approaching the table and, surprisedly, she was met by the sight of Ornstein sitting at it, with his head resting on his hands and a bunch of bottles in front of him. Ciaran turned her eyes and moved slightly forward to see better. _Wait… Is that ale?_ She thought, and then walked to approach him.

“Ornstein?” She asked softly. He only looked at her, placing the herbs and mortar on the table. His eyes were half-way closed and looked really bad. “You neither couldn’t sleep tonight, don’t you?”

Ciaran put some water on a bowl and started to boil it. 

“Aah… As you can see...” Ornstein carried his words, with a slight move of his hand, then, he grabbed the bottle and took a big swallow. 

Ciaran raised her eyebrows, and gave him a side smile, starting to prepare her infusion in front of him. “Are you drunk?” 

Ornstein wrinkled his nose and denied with his head. “What? Pff. I am not drunk” Then, he took another swallow and raised his eyebrows. Then, he inclined the mouth of the bottle towards the table. “Damn, its empty again.”

Raising from his sit, he went to the pantry to bring another bottle. She noticed he walked slightly hunched, with heavy steps and almost dragging his feet, and when he was back again, he clung to the table after sitting again.

“Can I ask you why are you drinking this late? And alone? I’m not going to judge you, promise.”

Ornstein passed his hand over his face, looking at her with eyes narrowed, and wrinkled his nose, as if he was disgusted.

“You have to promise me to not tell anybody…” He said, pointing her with a trembling finger after taking a sip. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Okey…” Ciaran knitted her eyebrows, confused, even thought there was the ghost of a smile in her mouth. She couldn’t understand why that had to be a secret but she played along, and listening Ornstein talk was amusing. Not many times you could see the captain drunk. “Why you couldn’t sleep?”

“Mmm…” Ornstein rubbed his temples, and shifted his posture on his sit. “You’ll see... I am dreaming with Gwynsen and when I woke up I feel so fucking bad I can’t sleep again.” Astonished, Ciaran raised her eyebrows at the same time he took a really big swallow. Of all things, she didn’t expected a straightforward confesion, not when had always being so secretive about romantic stuff.

“Ah… fuck. You know, I only want to sleep, for fuck sake.” Ornstein buried his face in his palm, groaning. Out of nowhere, he let out a soft laugh. “I’m so pathetic.”

Once again, he raised the bottle but apparently it was empty again.

_Wait a second, he has just sat down. He couldn’t drink that fast._

Ornstein was on his feet again, and Ciaran felt the urge to run by his side. “Ey, hold on,” she raised her hands and pushed him to the chair, “let me…” Ciran quickly run to the water and placed it on the table, just in time to stop Ornstein again from raising. “Have you noticed how much you have drunk?”

He furrowed his brow, gazing the six bottles. “That ain’t nothing... I’m perfectly fine.” From that close Ciaran could smell his stinky breath. She sighed, tilting her head with a worried expression.

“Let me finish my infusion and I clean this mess for you.” 

Ciaran hurried to put the smashed herbs inside the water and cleaned the table while stopping a whiny Ornstein from raising several times. By the time the infusion was finished, she filtered it and poured into two cups and handled one to Ornstein.

“Here, drink this.” He looked at her with a annoyed expression and his arms folded like some child who has being told off, but took the cup and drunk it in one gulp. “Yuck! What did you give me?” Ornstein exclaimed disgusted. She only drunk hers after letting out a chuckle. 

Once Ciaran cleaned the remain stuff, she helped Ornstein to stand up and dragged him outside the kitchen. He was really heavy, and the fact that he was stumbling with his own feet didn’t help at all. Apparently the alcohol reached his head very quickly, so all the way to his room, Ornstein was very talkative. Ciaran prayed to not wake up anybody, and it was the first time she missed his reserved self.

“Shh!” She looked up because he was laughing alone.

Suddenly, Ornstein felt silent looking surprised, “Right, Ciaran, shh!”

And he was back again laughing.

 _Oh my god…_ , she thought letting out an exasperated sigh.

When they opened Ornstein’s chambers door and Ciaran let him collapse on the bed, she felt the biggest relieve she had ever experienced in her life. Probably, she had lived the longest minutes of her life, and really hoped to not find Ornstein in that state never again.

“There are other ways to sleep without getting yourself drunk, you know…” Ciaran let out a long sight, helping Ornstein to get under sheets, then, looked down at him with her hands on her hips.

“Mm… I know… but they haven’t worked,” Ornstein spoked in a tiny voice, barely moving at all. 

“Well, I should go now. Hope you rest a little,” she said, but the second she turned to leave, she was stopped.

“Wait!” Ciaran could see Ornstein’s shape sitting on the bed. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to be alone. Please, stay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I uptaded the tags, so maybe you should check them first. Hope you like the chapter!

It was the first night Ornstein could sleep without dreaming after a couple of weeks, but instead of feeling well-rested, he woke up with the worst headache of his life and his mouth completely dry. His body felt like dead weight so it was no surprise that he found out difficult to move his hand and rub his eyes before opening them. 

Ornstein felt everything around him unfolding in slow motion and needed a few seconds to, first, understand he was at his room, and then, identify the person sitting on his bed as Ciaran. He furrowed his eyebrows, mouth half open, in a confused expression.

He observed Ciaran while she was combing his blonde hair, unaware of anything else. Wait, that was his brush. And with tired eyes, he glanced her body, noticing she wasn’t wearing her armor but a nightgown. 

A stabbing pain on his temple made Ornstein whine and bring his hand to it. The sound made Ciaran jump and she turned her head to him.

“So you woke up after all,” she said with a little playful smile on her face. Then, Ciaran looked at her hand and showed the brush to him, “I borrowed this, hope you don’t mind. How are you feeling?”

Ornstein leaned his back on the headboard with a furrow and his eyes narrowed. He really felt like a bag of shit, even more when the little movement caused him nausea. “What… What are you doing here?” he asked, after taking a long breath to calm himself.

“Don’t you remember?” Ciaran arched an eyebrow, and crossed her two legs on the bed, fully facing Ornstein. 

He denied with his head as a response, wrinkling his face in discomfort, after trying to remember what happened last night. First, he had been at his room, panicking about not being able to sleep another night. Then, he recalled one peculiar knight who tended to drink before going to sleep when fighting dragons were their daily lives. He said it helped him relax and clear his mind, and Ornstein decided to try that. He remember drinking at the kitchen, but when one bottle didn’t made him feel relaxed at all he decided to try another one. And then… Probably, he remember talking to Ciaran, but it was more like a faint memory.

Ciaran tilted her head and changed her expression to a strongly serious one. That sudden change made Ornstein feel really nervous. “Ornstein… Ah... ” For a second, she averted her eyes from him, and removed some locks from her face, biting her bottom lip. “We… We fucked.”

Ornstein turned pale, mouth agape in shock. “What?” He gasped, suddenly feeling stronger the nausea. His mind was going at full speed, forcing it to try and remember if that really happened. But his memories were blank. 

What really happened last night? Did he force her? God, he hoped not! But, what would happen now? Was she mad at him? What if she was pregnant?! 

Ornstein snapped back to reality when he heard a giggle. Ciaran was trying to hide a smile, causing the sides of her mouth to tremble. At first, Ornstein didn’t understand her actions, but when the realization hit him, he started to turn red.

“You are fucking cruel, Ciaran. I was almost having a heart attack, do you want to kill me?” He grunted, throwing her a pillow. Ciaran, finally, let out a laugh, catching the pillow and placing it on her lap.

“Not a single dragon have taken you down and a single joke would? Oh, come on, Ornstein.”

“That was the worst joke ever, and your humor is horrible! And low your voice, my head is going to explode,” he grunted, hiding his face behind his hands. It was really hot.

Ciaran giggled and moved herself to lay on the bed. “How much do you remember?” She spoke quieter now, looking up at him with her chin resting on her hand.

“Not pretty much, really. Maybe until you were at the kitchen,” Ornstein let out a sigh, and closed his eyes. His head really hurted too much and he was sure if he tried to move slightly, he would puke.

“Well, I brought you here, and you asked me to stay. At first, I refused but then, you started to whine about how scared you’d be to be sleep because of some kind of… weird dreams you were having.”

Ornstein snapped his eyes, startled, not daring to look at her but fixing his gaze at the ceiling. For a solid moment he questioned if he had been dumb enough to spill his secret. But Ciaran didn’t seem to be scandalized or disturbed. And she hadn’t run to confess about it, right? Everything was still normal, nobody knew about his forbidden feelings.

After releasing a deep long breath, he said, “I… I am so sorry. I’m sure it was a really uncomfortable situation...”

Ciaran had a teasing smile on her face. “Not as much as when I tried to leave after you falled asleep but somehow you noticed and trapped me in a bear hug.”

_That’s… That’s it. I want to die. I’m not going to drink ever again._

“I can’t express how much I’m sorry about that.” Ornstein was red again, too ashamed to look at Ciaran. “What I was thinking?”

She smiled sympathetic, sitting again on the bed “Don’t be so hard on yourself with this, alright?” she said, touching his shoulder. “Now, we need to get ready, it’s going to be late for you.”

Ornstein suddenly remembered all the things he had to do that day and his expression dropped, “I don’t want to...”

Ciaran tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, amazed. “Look at what a wild night can do to you. Where is the responsible Ornstein I know?” She giggled at the same time that Ornstein grunted. “But no excuses, you have to get up.” Grabbing the sheets, Ciaran pulled them aside and started to push Ornstein’s legs with all of her strength. 

When he was almost completely out of the bed, Ornstein needed to stop Ciaran and put his elbows on his knees, feeling heavy because of the nauseas intensifying. He tried to take long breaths to ease them, without success. 

Before Ciaran could ask what was wrong, Ornstein bend over and started to puke. Ciaran quickly averted her eyes from the picture, but moved closer anyways and removed the hair from each side of his face. 

“Easy, easy,” she tried to speak with a soft voice at the same time she was trying to ignore the disgusting noises. Ornstein gagged a couple of times after being able to recollect himself and take a shaky breath to calm his panting. Ciaran sighed sympathetic and caress his back. “Maybe, we should get you some water first, and something to eat.”

After Ornstein had calmed down, and without the risk to puke again, Ciaran helped him to get up. She offered to help him put his armour on, but Ornstein insisted he would be fine and rushed her to get ready. 

Ornstein’s moves were slow, but he didn’t expected them to be so much. Ciaran was back again in the blink of an eye, full dressed on her armour while he didn’t wore his faulds and gauntlets yet. 

He looked down at her after opening the door. “How?”

Ciaran only shrugged and passed under his arm. “You should hurry up. A maid is waiting for you to finish so she can clean your mess.”

After putting his helmet on, Ornstein tied up his hair in a messy ponytail. Ciaran gazed at it and sighed, grabbing the brush. “Sit down.”

“Why are you like this?” 

Ciaran pointed at him with the brush. “Sit down. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“No.” Ornstein furrowed and folded his arms.

“So, if you take your helmet today, you want to look like this in front of the Lords?”

That was more than enough to make Ornstein shut and sit down.

The maiden was out of the room awaiting, and vowed when they came through the door, wishing them a good day. Actually, Ornstein wasn’t really comfortable knowing she was in there. He didn’t liked having strangers around his stuff and always tried to do everything on his own. But Ciaran pushed him and made him move far from his chamber's door.

When they ate a small breakfast and Ornstein drunk a lot of water, Ciaran wanted to accompany him for a while, and he didn’t mind at all. They arrived where a big group of Silver Knights were waiting for Ornstein. Before approaching them, he let out a sight, not wanting to be speaking loud and giving orders for whole five minutes. 

“I have to go now, but I’ll check on you later,” Ciaran said when Ornstein was back at her side. They both were looking at the Silver Knights splitting and walking away.

“I’ll be fine.” 

Ciaran ignored him and faced him. “If you feel sick again, don’t force yourself and take a break.”

Ornstein sighed and nodded. “Seriously, don’t worry.”

Ciaran placed a hand on his arm in an affective way, despite it was only metal on metal. “Take care.” For a second, she stayed with his eyes fixated on him and seemed like she was going to say something else, but at the end nothing important came out of her mouth. “See you later.”

In that instant, when Ciaran turned to leave, Artorias appeared at the end of the corridor. Both of them stopped on his track and Ornstein was really confused at their behaviour. 

“Hello…” Artorias raised his hand shyly, but Ciaran continued pass him without saying a word.

He sighed and went to Ornstein’s side, who lifted his eyebrows under his helmet. “What the hell was that?”

Artorias opened his mouth, but closed it right away and frowned. “I… Ah… It’s really complicated. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The rest of the day was disastrous. Definitely, the worst hangover he had ever lived through.

Ornstein didn’t finish anything he had planned to do, always too distracted by his own headache, and he didn’t remember having a training more terrible like that one. Not only because the sound of the metal and the chatting between the knights made his head painfully scream in pain, but he had been the worst instructor ever. It was the first time he was so impatient, irritated and annoyed with his knights, and it didn’t help they were so nervous and tensed around him. By the time of lunch, Ornstein didn’t went to the dining room, not wanting to listen at the usual chaos. So he spent the rest of the day completely hungry and pissed. 

Fortunately, by evening his headache weakened and Ornstein could bear eating around his noisy fellows. But, in spite of everybody talking around them, the table of the Knights of Gwyn was rarely quiet, even though the many attempts of Gough to start a conversation. Artorias and Ciaran didn’t even look at each other and Ornstein was too focused on eating his food and avoiding his stupid urge to take a quick look at the royal family.

“What a group of bore you are…” Gough finally gave up.

When Ornstein took his leave, Ciaran eyes snapped to him and raised from her sit. “Wait Ornstein, we need to talk.”

He raised his eyebrows, taken aback, with his helmet under his arm. Extending his arm, pointing at the table, he spoke, “Well, then-”

“I mean, the two of us. In private.”

Artorias fully looked at her for the first time, with the food halfway to his mouth. 

Gough only lifted his hands. “Hey, that’s not fair.”

“Sorry, guys,” she said, but only looked at Gough with a simper.

They left the dining hall with Ornstein feeling really confused. Ciaran leaded him through the corridors without saying where they were going.

“Ciaran, what do you want to talk about?” He asked, walking behind her and being careful to not step on her feet.

She briefly looked at him. “I’ll tell you when we are at your room.”

When Ciaran closed the door, she wanted Ornstein to take a sit, so he left his helmet and his faulds resting on its stand. He was really starting to feel nervous, not really understanding why she needed to keep so much secrecy. His eyes followed every movement of Ciaran. She took a sit besides him, taking her mask off and placing it by her side, then, she carefully grabbed Ornstein’s hand between hers.

He looked at them really confused. _What… is going on?_

Ciaran took a deep breath before speaking and looking directly at his eyes. “I need to tell you something. That thing…” He arched an eyebrow, half confused and half nervous. “I have known it for a while, but I didn’t know when it was the best moment to tell you about it.” 

“What thing?”

“Before I say anything, I need you to be calm.”

Ornstein was growing nervous, starting to wish she said whatever she knew for once and for all. “I’ll be, what it is?”

Ciaran squished his hand unconsciously, “I know you have feelings for the Prince.”

The room went silent. Ornstein thoughts came to a stop, feeling like he couldn’t breath. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Then, he lifted his eyebrows, and a sudden panic raised in his chest. “I-I don’t know what do you mean.”

Ciaran looked concerned at him, knitting up her eyebrows. “Ornstein…” He removed his hand, and grabbed his own. She noticed they were slightly shaking. 

“Where do you get that kind of ideas?” His voice was trembling. “How could I have feelings for the Prince? One of the Lords, nonetheless? Are you crazy? You… You should forget about it! I mean it.” Ornstein was nervously looking everywhere besides her.

Ciaran sighed, and her lips were in a thin line. “Ornstein, you can trust me, I-.”

“There is nothing I need to trust you for,” he quickly interrupted her. 

“Last night you confessed me you are dreaming with the prince.”

“What?!” Ornstein opened his eyes in shock.

“And you spent a whole hour crying because it was forbidden and the prince won’t love you back.”

At the end, he had been a bigmouth. Good job. All this time trying to bottle up this feelings and he let them out like anything else mattered. He couldn’t be able to be near the Prince again, he would be made fun of, he couldn’t be the Dragon Slayer anymore, and who knows what more terrible things would happen to him! Ornstein felt the air around him insufficient to breath. 

Ciaran grabbed his shoulders, deeply concerned, and forced him to look at her. “Ornstein… Please, calm down, I won’t tell anybody. I told you. Your secret is safe with me.” He met her eyes. “Breath with me.”

She exaggerated the motion of breathing for Ornstein to copy, and he forced himself to take a deep breath after another. When he visibly calmed down, she smiled. 

“Well done.” Then, tenderly, she placed a hand of his check. “I’m worried about you. You’ve been really tired lately, and, yesterday, I found you drunk…”

Ornstein felt a bit ashamed. It was true he actually didn’t know how to handle his feelings but making somebody worry about him like that felt wrong.

“Listen, you can come to me whenever you feel bad or sad. Vent about what worries you, I’ll be more than happy to help you in whatever I can.”

It was strange how he was feeling like a completely idiot, eaten by fear seconds ago. But now, he was numb, not knowing what he should be thinking.

Ciaran let out a sigh. “I haven’t told anybody.”

Ornstein frowned, a bit insecure. “Is that true?”

“I swear on Lord Gwyn and on my honor.”

Ornstein averted his eyes from her and bit his lip. A little voice inside his head was telling him not to trust her, and he wanted to make it shut up, it was really annoying and starting to make him feel nervous again.

“Listen, I’ll tell you my secret, so we can be drawn.” He gazed at her with confusion. “I’m… I’m in love with Artorias.” 

Ornstein’s jaw fell off. He wasn’t expecting something like that. “You love Artorias?”

“I’m glad your brain worked again to ask me that. And yes, for a very long time now.” Ciaran grinned and patted his check before taking off her hand.

“Ciaran… I…” Ornstein sighed. “Thank you for being so nice with me, and not telling anybody about... Well… That.”

“You are welcome, Ornstein.”

“You are a really good friend…” Ornstein mumbled very low, but Ciaran heard it anyways and smiled.

For a moment, the room went silent. After Ciaran playfully pushed Ornstein’s shoulder. “So, the Prince, huh? You sure aim high.”

Ornstein looked at her at let out a shy laugh, returning the push.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I want to let you know that in this chapter an OC briefly appear, not for so long but I needed to have it in this part. Hope you don't mind and enjoy the chapter!

During all of his years of service, Ornstein had had the (not so) pleasure to be more than a couple of times at Smough’s dungeon and see the different atrocities done to the prisoners down there. Even though he wanted to erase that memories from his mind, he learned a lot of types of physical tortures, many of them explained by Smough with a teasing tone while Ornstein tried really hard not to lay his eyes on that unpleasant picture for even a second. That day, though, out of that dungeon and without the companie of the executioner, he discovered a new type of torture, where anyone didn’t have the need to put a single finger on a body.

A couple of days ago, the rulers of Osmela arrived to attend diplomatic issues. They were facing a war and needed help to defeat their attackers, and due to the proximity of their lands, they requested a meeting with Lord Gwyn. Osmela was, in fact, a rich kingdom with large fertile lands located in a valley that was really hard to reach, and at the eyes of the Lord, those were very valuable characteristics to consider whether he should miss the opportunity to form a new military alliance with them or not.

The king of Osmela and his two daughters arrived as soon as they could and they discussed the terms of their alliance for three days. And when they successfully closed the agreement, the time for celebrations arrived on their last day at Anor Londo. 

The party Lord Gwyn hosted at one of the most fancy halls of the castle was attended by other Lords and important nobles. Every place was well decorated and shined like gold, and between the fancy tables there was an empty space where the guests danced along with a beautiful music.

Still like a statue, with that imposing posture he had learned to maintain after many years of practice, Ornstein had to stand there, with his spear held in front of him, just like Artorias was standing a couple of meters apart, also with his greatsword resting on the floor. 

Ornstein knew they were at the party as mere ornaments and he hated being shown off like that. Not only because he had to be all night without being able to move, but he wasn’t the type of person who likes to brag his titles at all. To make matters worse, as if Ornstein didn’t had enough, he had to watch the Prince being seduced by the older daughter of the king of Osmela. That sigh felt like pure torture and, somehow, he couldn’t avert his eyes from it.

They were dancing together, swinging gracefully around the hall and dodging the rest of the couples. From his place, Ornstein couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he could saw them fairly well. And that bitter feeling at the bottom of his stomach was growing bigger and bigger inside him with each passing second, with every time she flashed that breathtaking gaze and smile, with every time he hold her closer and closer.

Everybody knew about the many attempts of Lord Gwyn to pair off his son with a princess, the more powerful a kingdom was, the better a candidate was for his son. He practically obliged Gwynsen to spent a significant amount of time with the poor woman he had chosen, and although every one of his attempts had been unsuccessful, Ornstein knew it was only a matter of time the Prince get along with the right one and both of them fall in love. 

The thought only sent disgusting shivers down his spine and over the course of the party, Ornstein couldn’t get that one single question out of his mind: What if she was the one? This time… the Prince seemed way too comfortable around her when the other times he would be uncomfortable or indifferent. It could be possible, right?

From time to time, Ornstein really tried his best to convince himself that the answer to that question actually didn’t matter. 

As his knight, if they ended up together it would be none of his business. If those were the Prince’s wishes, he had to put his selfish feelings aside. If the Prince was happy, he would be happy no matter what. Ornstein kept reminding himself what his place was, and that he couldn’t expect his dumb fantasies to become alive. _That’s how things should be. Me, serving as a knight while my Lord shares his live with another princess. It’s easy, goddamned._

Ornstein was starting to feel overwhelmed by his own thoughts and he didn’t noticed the music stopping for a couple of seconds. In that moments of silent, many of the couples vowed and slipped apart to form new ones or take a break from dancing. They were in the last group, and the princess hung on to Gwynsen’s arm while he told her something she agreed to. 

They headed to where Ornstein was standing, and he noticed it late, when they were just a few feet apart. Ornstein stiffened abruptly and when his eyes met the eyes of Gwynsen, his breath was caught in his throat.

“My Lord.” He vowed and his grab on his spear turned rigid.

“Princess Maethild, this is Sir Ornstein, the Dragon Slayer,” he said, when both of them were at his side, extending a hand in front of him.

“I’ve heard of you, you are a living legend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She had a really charming voice, filled with strongness, and Ornstein noticed by the way she was standing that she was very confident of herself.

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady,” he bowed again and tried to speak with the most plain voice he could do.

In the background, the music started to be play again, but Ornstein couldn’t heard it anymore.

“Sir Ornstein is my most trustful man, and one of the best knights I’ve had the pleasure to have under my command.” The Prince spoked with a bright smile, without taking his eyes out of Ornstein. “Without him, we couldn’t have won the war.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Ornstein said plainly, although he was feeling a tickling at the pit of his stomach. “I’m flattered by your kind words, but I was only fulfilling my duties.”

The princess hummed, tilting her head. “We are in need of knights as capables as yours. I’m glad we could finally come to an agreement.”

“Indeed,” Gwynsen nooded, and turned his gaze again at Ornstein. “You are going to train their knights whilst we are going to send them ours troops. I think they’ll arrive in a couple of days, if I’m not mistaken.”

Princess Maethild agreed with him and started caressing his arm with her hand. Ornstein looked at their entangled arms and, before saying anything, he swallowed hard. “It would be a pleasure to train them.”

They kept talking about military matters with little intervention of Ornstein. Prince Gwynsen was always eager to speak about wars and strategies, and Ornstein always followed him up, but at that time he only wished the conversation to end as soon as possible. 

He noticed Princess Maethild also learned it quickly and soon, she was having Gwynsen eating out of her hand. Apparently, she was not instructed in the arts of magic or healings, like one would expect from a normal princess, but she was instructed in the art of battle and so she had a deep knowledge of the military functioning. 

With every word of hers, Ornstein could felt how his stomach clenched more and more, and whenever he looked at the face of Gwynsen and saw those eyes full of excitement and appreciation, he wanted to thrown up.

Seems like his question got an answer at last.

Finally, when they both went away, he let out a shaky breath, without knowing exactly how he must be feeling.

It was late in the night when the party ended and Ornstein was in need of fresh air to calm his mind. He knew if he locked himself in his chambers right away, he would spend the night overthinking and feeling horrible. Although he knew he could knock on Ciaran’s door to feel better, he wasn’t keen on disturbing her sleep, and because he had made a promise, Ornstein was trying really hard to not consider getting drunk again.

Lately he had been sleeping better, actually. Ciaran and he have been seeing each other a lot, whenever one of them started to feel bad. At first, it was hard for Ornstein to speak at all when he went to her and they only spent the time awkwardly in silent, not like Ciaran really minded, but after a week, he started to felt more comfortable, and their talks have been helping him significantly since then.

Ciaran also vented a lot. It was really hard for her, and it was shown when she started to doubt herself when she was one of the most confident people Ornstein had ever known. He tried his best to comfort her, and even insisted on make Artorias tell him what was going on or talk to Ciaran, but it was without any success.

Ornstein walked through the castle until he reached a garden with a fountain where not many people walked by. He sat down and took off his helmet and gauntlets to rub his face in complete silence. He needed to start doing something with his feelings or they would be the end of him. He needed to forget his feelings towards the Prince. He needed to see him only as a master and his Lord. He needed to feel only devotion and loyalty. Not love. But it was difficult. Very difficult.

“Aha! There you are!” Ornstein raised his face from his hands and looked at Ciaran with a long face, not truly surprised at her presence. “I supposed you have been hiding somewhere.” Then, her tone changed to a serious one. “I… I was observing them at the party. How… are you feeling?”

Ornstein only let out a long sigh, fixing his gaze on the ground. 

Ciaran took a sit besides him, and took off her mask. Then, she bit her bottom lip before speaking again. “Ornstein… I followed them after the party. Do you...” Her tone made Ornstein to frown. 

“No,” he interrupted, shuttering his eyes and trying not to imagine what they would be doing. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Ciaran nodded and moved closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You know, probably nothing will happen.”

“That’s… none of our business. If those are his desires, I’ll be happy for him, it’s not like...” Ornstein voice failed before the idea and cleared his throat. He felt a nasty mixture of sadness and jealousy.

Ciaran gave him a compassionate look and moved her hand to his leg. 

For a moment both of them went silent until Ornstein looked at her, agitated. “She is perfect. She is so beautiful and smart, it’s like she is a perfect copy of him, and… and… ” Ornstein stumbled on his words and turned red. 

Sometimes, Ornstein couldn’t get out of his head the idea that his feelings was forbidden and something bad would happen if he spoke too much, even after the many times Ciaran has tried to convince him that it was nothing wrong with them.

She let out a sigh and hugged him. Ornstein, feeling ashamed, was grateful for being able to hide his face, not wanting it to be looked at. He buried his face on her shoulder as she started to caress the top of his head. 

“I feel like a selfish idiot…” Ornstein mumbled after a while, starting to feel more calm.

“But you aren’t.”

“They are perfect for each other.”

“That’s not something you can know, Ornstein. Every princess who has stayed on the castle was beautiful and smart and have you seen Prince Gwynsen falling over heels for even one of them?”

“No…” He muttered, separating from the hug.

“Then, don’t be so pessimistic. Surely tomorrow he will forget about her and they will still remain as allies.”

“But they will…” Ornstein shutted in the mid of the phrase, biting his bottom lip. “I… I don’t want to talk anymore about this.”

Ciaran let out a soft sigh. “All right.”

“What about you? How are you doing?” 

“I want to talk with him again.”

Ornstein gave her a sideway look, arching his eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Ciaran let out an exasperated sigh, “I know, but I don’t know what else I can do. I thought he would come to me and talk, but after all this time… Nothing.”

He raised his hand, at first indecisive, but started to caress Ciaran’s back. “You know how Artorias can be sometimes, probably he is still trying to clear his mind. Just give him more time.”

Ciaran let out a grunt. “If I give him more time, I’ll will turn old.” She wrinkled her face and looked hopeless at Ornstein. “I don’t know what can I do. I’ve swear I haven’t done anything and everything was fine before he left, but...”

Suddenly, she closed her mouth and looked behind Ornstein. He knitted his eyebrows, confused, and turned his gazes to the garden’s entry, just in time to see the back of some robes and the end of white hair in the air. Ornstein’s stomach clenched.

She raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised, before turning her gaze back to Ornstein. “That was Prince Gwynsen.”

Ornstein watched the entry intently before lowering his gaze. “Why…?”

“Why are you still here?” She interrupted him and Ornstein looked at her like she had a second head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he seemed like he was looking for someone, and I’m pretty sure he was looking for you because he didn’t take his eyes out of you until he noticed I was looking at him. So, you should go.”

For a moment, Ornstein looked thoughtful before he bit his bottom lip. “No, that will be weird.”

“It’s more weird the fact he has gone away like that!”

Ornstein moved uncomfortable, furrowing. “I… No. I won’t go.”

Ciaran rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh. She knew she would not convince his stubborn friend. “As you like, Ornstein.”

The next day, the king and his daughters departed to their lands, and Lord Gwyn bid farewell to them, along with his son and daughter. And due to protocol, Ornstein had to be at the throne room too. Though, he wasn’t listening at their conversation at all.

While Lord Gwyn was speaking to the king, Ornstein observed the princess and, perplexed, he noticed that something had changed in her demeanor. She wasn’t as happy as she was last night, and she did no longer shoot charmingly gazes to Gwynsen, it was more like a... resentful look. 

Ornstein would never admit it to nobody, but that lifted his mood. Maybe Ciaran was right after all.

From time to time, he observed the Prince too, trying to not think too much about what had happened at the garden. To his surprise, the Prince, also, looked like something have happened and, despite he was always polite to their guests, he didn’t spoke to the family. Then, he left without saying a word, with his sister behind him, stepping on his ankles and carrying a worried expression on her face.


	7. Chapter 7

“I think I’m going crazy. I don’t know why I even listen to you in first place.” Ornstein voice came out as a whine.

He was laying splattered on Ciaran’s bed, covered with a heavy blanket although the room was starting to get warm thanks to the fireplace they littled a hour ago to endure the winter days of Anor Londo.

Ciaran was sitting on the frame of her window, also covered with a blanket, and reading a book deeply absorbed by it. After hearing Ornstein’s voice, she hummed and briefly raised her eyes from the words without paying too much attention to him. “Weren’t you going to take a nap?”

Ornstein let out a sigh and mumbled, “I just couldn’t sleep...”

It had been the weirdest and most stressful month Ornstein had ever had in his life. First, he spent every day training that damned knights of Osmela and just the thought of them made him grunt and writhe with disgust. They were nothing compared to their Silver Knights, who were so respectful, hard-working and prone to learn. No, they were the completely opposite and they sure got on his nerves more than once since the first day they put a foot on the training field. 

No wonder they were at the very verge of losing a war if they took so lightly the commands from their captains. Goddamned, even them seemed like they didn’t hold any authority upon their knights!

Ornstein didn’t know how he ended up forcing some respect upon them, but he recalled he kicked many of their asses clouded by anger, and they were far less than the amount he actually wanted to kick. Not like he was proud of it and neither used to resort to that kind of behavior towards his knights, but, god, he reached a point where he didn’t know what else he had to do with them anymore.

Secondly, and out of nowhere, Artorias started to avoid him too and weirdly act around him. He just walked off wherever they happened to be on the same room and he just stopped meeting him between their shifts to chat for a while. Ornstein knew their meets weren’t arranged at all, they just came across each other because their paths crossed, but that only served to create a weird feeling on him. Why he was avoiding him? Surely, that didn’t made Ornstein sad like Ciaran was, but oh, he was starting to get really pissed off.

And last but not least, for some unknown reasons, Prince Gwynsen started to need him more around him, even to do errands he always has done by himself. In fact, he didn’t complain, he was always glad to be able to serve him, but it was the worse moment to start demanding so many things of him. And if he wasn’t training knights, he was running behind the Prince every minute he was awake. 

It was awfully exhausting. So, if before Osmela Knights came Ornstein barely had free time, during the last month he didn’t have time to breath or even blink. And when the knights finally left for good, leaving Ornstein at the very verge of a mental breakdown, Ciaran successfully convinced him to go on leave, though the urge to get things done didn’t stop chasing him.

Ornstein groaned, sitting with his legs folded on the bed. “I shouldn’t have took a week off. This was such a stupid idea!”

Ciaran was on leave too, because knowing the bundle of nerves her friend was, it was better to kept him company and prevent him to run back to Lord Gwyn and renounce his days off after being one hour without anything to do. So far, it was working, but the only drawback was hearing him whine almost every minute.

“How about you do something more interesting than laying in my bed?” She said, turning a page without looking at him.

“Any thoughts?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you start painting again? You can use the paper and ink from my desk.”

Ornstein looked at the furniture with a long face and, after a couple of seconds, dismissed the idea with a noise. “I don’t feel like it.”

Ciaran let out a sigh, rolling her eyes and resuming her reading, but just when she turned another page, her face lit up with a new idea, “Wait, I know the perfect thing you can do!” He gave her a lazy sideway look, and when Ornstein saw that Ciaran had that smirk on her face, he knew that whatever she was going to say next it was far from perfect. 

Quickly, she rushed to his side and started to push him out of the bed. “Go grab your coat.”

“Why?” He asked, grimacing.

But Ciaran just kept pulling him through the room by his arm, until she opened the door and widely smiled at him. “We are going to the market.”

And just like that, they headed off the castle. 

At first, Ornstein thought Ciaran was referring to the highest part of the city, which was full of elegant shops, not so far of the castle and where many servants stopped by to do their God’s errands. But no, an hour’s walk later confirmed him the contrary when they both reached the lower part of the city, walking past people far away form the divine in a noisy street full of shops with a cold weather that didn’t invite at all to be outside.

Ornstein looked down to Ciaran, who happened to be enjoying the walk way too much, looking around with excitement, and asked her, “So, where are we going to?”

Ciaran looked up at his clearly uncomfortable expression for being surrounded by a lot of people, and smiled, “I want to buy a book.”

Ornstein hummed, “Don’t you have plenty of them already?”

“Not this one! Besides, what is the problem of having new books?”

“Well, you still have a huge pile of unread books and you are supposed to read them first!”

Suddenly, Ciaran grabbed him by his arm and pointed to a bookshop. It looked very old from the outside, with a wood sign, where you could read the name of the shop, hanged on top of the door. And when they crossed it, they were welcomed by the heavy smell of old wood. It was so strong that Ciaran sneezed multiple times and Ornstein felt the urge to clear his throat. There were several shelves stacked up with books, books piled up on the floor, on desks and on a counter. Behind it, a young man with a weird hat was seated reading a book, and after hearing the jingling of the door, he raised his gaze with a kind smile.

He greeted them and asked if they needed help. After that, Ciaran approached him and started to ask him about the book she needed. Ornstein, meanwhile, started to wander between the shelves, curiosity growing though he wasn’t an avid reader as much as Ciaran or Artorias were.

Ornstein noticed the books weren’t classified with any criteria, they were just placed on the shelves carelessly, and a lot of them looked like they have seen better times. He passed his finger over the spine of the books, skimming through the titles, on the background he could heard the muffled voices of Ciaran and the bookseller. Their searching appeared to take longer than needed, so Ornstein started to pick up random books and skim through the pages, and after a while, he was taken aback when one of the books turned out to be about Lordran’s history. 

Now, with his curiosity picked, he flipped the pages until he reached where the Dragon War was mentioned, greeted by an ink drawing of the Lords. Unconsciously, he held his breath for a second, admiring how magnificent they were portrayed even on paper, including that treacherous dragon. He only stopped when a title caught his attention to briefly read the explanation written down, most of the time wrinkling his nose slightly annoyed because the book wasn’t telling what really had happened back there. 

Suddenly, a drawing of the Knights of Gwyn caught his attention, and Ornstein knitted his eyebrows, humming surprised, because he have been... drawed significantly shorter than Artorias. And that was completely inaccurate! He wasn’t that short, just a few centimeters shorter than him, but not a whole head!

“What are you reading?” Ciaran’s voice startled him, and Ornstein jumped, closing the book abruptly and returning it back on his place. 

“Nothing, just a stupid book…” She arched an eyebrow, humming appreciatively. “Did you find what you needed?”

“Yes!” She showed him a cooking book and he raised his eyebrows.

“So you didn’t give up.”

“Of course not! I found it quite funny actually. Gough’s recipes helped me a lot to learn, but I don’t want to ask him for recipes every time I want to do something new, so… Oh! I could cook you something tomorrow!”

“If it won’t poison me, I don’t mind to try it…”

Ornstein giggled when Ciaran playfully pushed him, and then, they left the shop. Once they started to walk down the street, Ciaran searched inside the bag she has brought with her.

“By the way,” pulling out a book, she continued, “I bought this for you, now you can have something to do and not spent all the day whining about being bored in my bedroom.”

Ornstein gave her a questioning glance, grabbing the book from her hands and scanning the cover, though the title said nothing about the content of the book.

“ _Oath?_ What is this about?”

Ciaran giggled, looking at him mischievously. “Oh, you know... It’s just a story about a secret passionate and torrid romance between a princess and her faithful knight,” she said, entonning every word with a fervil energy. “The bookseller told me that it’s a very popular book right now.”

Ornstein’s expression fell off, completely white, but then his lips parted with a nervous smile. “No, you are just teasing me. I don’t believe you, you have to be kidding.”

“Well, you can confirm it by yourself,” she said, giving him a signal with her hand to go on.

Ornstein knitted his eyebrows, insecure, and opened the book by half to start reading. 

With every passing word he read, his face blushed harder and harder, after he abruptly closed the book and looked bewildered at Ciaran, who let out a loud laugh. 

“Why the fuck did you buy me this?! Have you opened and read it?! This… This is totally blasphemous and improper!” Ornstein was stumbling on his words, and looked like he needed to remember how to breath. He had spoken in a higher tone than expected, causing a couple of people to turn and look at him. 

Ciaran whipped some tears out of her eyes, and needed a couple of seconds to regain her breath before grabbing the book from his hands and read the page he was on. “Aw, you opened the book where they fuck, I’m sure you have ruined the story for yourself.” Then, she let out a whistle and murmured, “Damn, this is really explicit… Maybe I should borrow this in the future...”

Ornstein loudly grunted, wanting to throw that damn book away and kick Ciaran’s ass with all the force he had.

“Don’t take it too serious, Ornstein, it’s just fiction!” Ciaran said between giggles. “Is not like it could happen in reality, isn’t it?”

He let out a strangled suffering noise from the deepest of his throat, which only made Ciaran start to laugh again. 

“Oh, for the Lords, it’s so easy to mess with you!”

Ornstein narrowed his eyes to her, denying with his head and grimacing. “Your humour is the worst...”

“Aw, come on, but look at how cute you look, all red and flustered.” She reached her hand up to pinch his red cheek, but it was quickly pushed aside, though the shadow of a smile could be started to be seen on his lips.

“You are unbearable, do you know that? No wonder Artorias doesn’t want to be near you, with all that damn teasing of yours.”

“Excuse you?!” Ciaran made an exaggerated gesture, bringing her hand to her chest and gasping, to seem like she was really hurted.

Ornstein expression fell off after noticing what he had just said. “Oh my Lord, I’m so so sorry, Ciaran, I didn’t mean to-” He shut up when she puffed, pushing him by his arm. 

“I know Ornstein! I got it was a joke, don’t worry!” Ciaran reassured him with a soft laugh. “Let’s kept going, all right? I need to visit other shops.” 

He looked down at her and, for a moment, he felt really dumb, but Ciaran didn’t pay much attention to him, and kept walking with the book back in her bag.

They spent the next hours visiting clothing stores and an antique shop, just because Ciaran saw a figure that reminded one that her mother owned years ago at her first home. When they finished, it was starting to get dark, and they were very tired from the walk. Both, Ciaran and Ornstein, thought they wouldn’t be on time to attend the dinner and decided to stop by a tavern and order some food. 

Surprisingly, after they have eaten half of their food, Ciaran ordered a bottle of ale and Ornstein arched an questioning eyebrow at her. “Why? You don’t usually like to drink.”

Ciaran shrugged with a smile. “Why not? We’ve earned it.” 

She grabbed the bottle and poured the drink in their glasses and then, pointed the mouth of the bottle to Ornstein. “We’ve spent many days sad because of some damn idiots.” He opened his mouth to punctuate that, in fact, Prince Gwynsen was not an idiot, but Ciaran didn’t let him the time, “It’s time for us, my friend, that we have some fun for once.”

And they started drinking, and Ciaran forgot that Ornstein had no control over the alcohol, and when she should have stopped him from drinking most of the content of the several bottles they ordered, she was far way too tipsy to care about it.

They didn’t know how they got to the castle’s door and passed through the poor guards keeping everybody outside. Maybe Ciaran threatened them, or was it Ornstein? Either way, they stumbled over their feets multiple times through every corridor they went through, grabbing onto each other and laughing loudly with almost every word they let out. But until Ciaran didn’t abruptly stop, causing Ornstein to collide with her back, they didn’t shut up their mouths. 

Ornstein looked where Ciaran had her gaze fixated and suddenly felt like he was floating on a cloud just by looking at his beautiful Prince. He was standing right besides Artorias, who, for once, wasn’t covering his face with his helmet. They could see the quickly movement of their eyes, switching between them and Ornstein’s coat over Ciaran’s shoulders, and their weird expressions that Ornstein didn’t bother to decipher. 

Then, suddenly, the Prince moved quickly to Ornstein’s side with a frown on his face and placed a hand on his jaw to lift his face. The knight just gave him a goofy smile. 

“What the hell happened to you?” he snarled, and briefly looked angrily at Ciaran. “You have blood on your face.”

Ornstein reached a hand to touch it and when his fingers brushed against his nose, he took a sharp breath. “Ah… Probably I fell in some stairs?” He carried every word, and letting out a giggle he continued, “I don’t remember very well, my apologies, my highness.”

Gwynsen arched an eyebrow after hearing _my_. “Are you drunk?”

Once again, Ornstein giggled, tilting his head. “No... Well, just... A little.”

The prince sighed, letting him go, and before he could say anything else, Ciaran started to angrily speak behind them.

“You, asshole!” Ciaran was trying to hit him again square on the chest at the same time she tried to not be grabbed by a nervous Artorias. “You don’t speak with me for weeks and now you say you are worried about me?! What do you think I am? A fool?!”

Artorias finally grabbed her wrists but she started to shake them with all the force she could came up with on her drunkenly state. “Don’t touch me!”

“Ah… Ciaran, please don’t scream.” Artorias looked really overwhelmed.

Ornstein stepped away from the Prince’s reach and walked to Artorias with an angry face. After noticing that, the wolf knight raised his eyebrows in a plea to Ornstein. “Oh, please, don’t hit me you too...” 

But his friend only touched his chest with his index finder, making him flinch, though when nobody was punched, Artorias let out a relieved sigh.

“Yeah... She’s damn right, you are an asshole. Don’t you have a heart?” Ornstein was tapping his chest with his finger repeatedly. “Have you no consideration nor even thought about what she may be feeling? I’m very disappointed at you… I mean, you can ignore me as much as you like, but her?!”

Ornstein raised his voice when he said the last question, pointing with his other hand at Ciaran, who hardly kicked Artorias’ leg, full of angry, breaking her free. He grunted in pain and looked with a plea at the Prince, who finally stepped between the three knights and put Ornstein aside, grabbing him by his arm and shoulder.

“That was fantastic, Ornstein, I’m sure he has learnt his lesson and will stop his dumb behaviour and apologize with Ciaran, _right_ , Sir Artorias?” The Prince accentuated the question, giving him a sideway look. 

Artorias nooded rapidly, avoiding to look at Ornstein or Ciaran, but that was enough to satisfy Ornstein, who hummed contently and returned to dreamily gaze up at the face of Gwynsen.

“Let’s get you to your room and leave them alone to clear up their problems,” continued the Prince, placing a hand on Ornstein’s upper back to guide him.

“As you like, my highness.”

“Wait, Ornstein,” called Ciaran, opening her bag and handling him the book. “Mmm… Don’t forget your things.”

“Thank you very much!” Ornstein lengthen the words with a smile, extending his arm to grab it from her.

In the time the book was passed from hand to hand, Artorias and Gwynsen had the chance to look at the cover and recognize the title. Artorias opened his mouth, repressing a gasp in his throat, and both of them looked at each other with their eyebrows raised with astonishment.


	8. Chapter 8

Midway to Ornstein’s room, Prince Gwynsen started to carry him with his arm wrapped around his back. He knew that it had something to do with the fact that everytime he tripped and the prince caught him seconds before he hitted his face on the floor, he looked like his heart was coming out of his throat. 

Ornstein also knew that he was slightly overreacting. Obviously, there wasn’t any need to be in such a nervous mood. He actually wasn’t tripping so much, and besides the dumb slippery floor that had made him stumble one or two times, he was completely able to walk by his own. But who was he to deny the prince’s desire to hold him close? Certainly, nobody, and he didn’t want to complain.

When he was left on his bed, sitting with his book gripped tightly against his belly, he let out a soft chuckle. Finally, in the room barely litten by just a couple of candles, Prince Gwynsen was looking down at him with a smile for the first time in the night, though maybe it was more like a worried sign than just happiness. 

_Why is he worried about?_

“What I’m going to do with do?” The prince sighed.

The room felt like it was starting to spin and Ornstein looked around without focussing on anything specific. Somewhere in his mind, a bell ringed, urging him to answer the prince’s question.

“Ah… I don’t know?” Ornstein hummed, taking a few seconds to try and think about the possibilities. “Actually… You can do plenty of things with me, my highness.”

Gwynsen shook his head, with a tinny smile playing on his lips, and turned himself to go into the small bathroom attached to the knight’s chamber. 

Just then, Ornstein sighed, looking at the back of the prince disappearing before laying himself on the bed with his eyes closed. Not long after, a new weight besides him made Ornstein open his tired eyes and look up at Prince Gwynsen, who had a wet fabric on one of his hand. With the other, he carefully removed the book from his grip and placed it on his bed table.

_Why do I still have that damn book?_

“Would you sit, please? I need to clean the blood out of your face” The smooth and warm voice of Gwynsen came above him, and he looked dreamly at him.

“No.” Ornstein voiced his answer deliberately slow, denying with his head. “You lay with me.”

Gwynsen died a chuckle on his throat, with his eyebrows raised. “I’m afraid I can not, Ornstein. But here, let me help you.”

Then, he carefully put his arm between the knight and his bed and raised him. Ornstein just grunted with a frown, because he actually was being serious on his proposal, but either way, he let the prince being. 

His frown was dissolved as soon as the fabric was rubbing carefully where he supposed the blood was. Meanwhile, Ornstein fixed his lidded eyes on him and patiently waited for the prince to be done, closely admiring his features. From time to time, the prince raised his eyes and briefly looked at him, causing a smile to form on Ornstein’s lips every time.

“With such a mess you have made on your face I wonder why are you smiling so much.”

Ornstein only lazily shrugged. “I’m happy, my highness, very very very happy.”

Gwynsen just let out a breathy laugh, starting to carefully rub the fabric around his nose. “Does it hurt too much?”

“Mmm… Just a little.”

“Then, I’ll heal your nose before cleaning it. I don’t want you to feel pain.”

Ornstein nodded slowly, without looking away from that strange gaze the prince was given to him, clumsy wondering about the meaning behind it. Then, Gwynsen raised his free hand to linger it in front of his nose, without touching it, and started to chant a miracle in a low voice. A warm aura radiated from it and, soon, the itchy feeling started to vanish from his nose until it was no more. 

Suddenly, after the miracle had stopped, Ornstein moved his head forward until Gwynsen’s hand was splattered all over his face, and letting out a muffled moan, he started to rub his face against the palm. At the same time, Gwynsen raised his eyebrows, completely surprised, and tried to remove his hand without making Ornstein lose his balance and fall on him, but as soon as he managed to slightly separate it, Ornstein grabbed it and stamped it back on his face, moving it to caress his cheek.

“What… What are you doing, Ornstein?” The prince’s voice sounded weird in Ornstein’s ears, as if the confidence he always showed around everybody was no longer existing.

“Mmm… It’s so warm…” He leaned on the touch, with his eyes closed and rubbing slowly his cheek against the rough palm. Somewhere inside his brain, a voice was screaming from happiness. “It feels really good...”

Ornstein opened his eyes just in time to watch the way Gwynsen’s expression changed, his eyebrows went lower and a weird smile appeared on his face. Was he forcing it?

The knight pressed his cheek on the palm once again and asked with a face full of concern, “Have I bothered you, my highness?”

Gwynsen watched him closely for a couple of seconds before shaking his head and speaking quietly. “You’ve made me stain your face.” 

All of a sudden, his thumb was caressing his cheekbone, and it made Ornstein smile widely.

“Mmm... I don’t care.”

Gwynsen sighed, and raised the fabric to start cleaning the new trails of blood that he could reach without taking his hand off Ornstein’s cheek. And when he was done, he asked for his permission to take it off and finish the task.

“Fine...” Ornstein lengthened the word, “But only if you touch the other one, please?”

“Of course,” the prince chuckled, changing the fabric between his hand, cleaning the remainings of the blood out of his palm on the process, and started to caress the other check. 

When his check was cleaned, the prince let the bloody fabric lay on his lap, not minding if it got dirty at all, and held Ornstein’s face on both of his hands. A brief low chuckle was out of Ornstein’s throat as soon as he felt both of his rough palms.

“Since when have you turned so touchy when you are drunk?” Gwynsen asked, only obtaining a shrug. “Do you remember last year when you got so smashed that, when Sir Artorias accidentally stepped on you, you almost started a fight? You were so enraged and out of yourself that when I tried to hold you, you hit me square on the face with your elbow.” He let out a laugh, even though Ornstein only looked at him with half lidded eyes and a smile, just feeling good for the warmth coming from him in that cold bedroom. “And now look at you… Hah, you’ve become quite carefree lately.”

Ornstein knitted his eyebrows, confused. “I’m not free cared… What does it even mean? You speak weird, my highness...”

The prince chuckled and shook his head. “Now, you need to change your clothes, they are dirty and quite bloody. How about I pick you a warm sleepwear while you help me by taking off your clothes? Can you do that?”

Ornstein nodded slowly, feeling the cold air against his released checks while he watched the huge figure of the prince raising up. Has he always been so tall? 

When Gwynsen opened his wardrobe, Ornstein looked down, with his head spinning, and grabbed the end of his tunic, thinking with his fuzzy mind for a few seconds.

“This... Is really soon to do this kind of things, my highness, but... I don’t mind…” He mumbled in a really low voice. 

“What? Do you need help, Ornstein?”

When he turned himself, the sleepwear he was holding fell off of his hands, the same way his face fell off when he saw a completely naked Ornstein splattered on his bed. A strangled noise tore his way out of his throat, halfway to be a shaky _Ah_ , making Ornstein smile at his red face and watch the clumsy movements he made to pick up the night wear without looking at him even after he was sitting by his side.

“Co… Could you properly sit, please?”

Ornstein nodded, doing what he was asked for, and looked at him with a smirk, really fascinated by how cute the prince looked.

“Why don’t you look at me, my highness?” He raised a hand to touch his face, but Gwynsen caught it midway.

“I’m truly sorry, Ornstein,” he answered with a shaky voice after swallowing hard, “I didn’t mean for you to get naked. Sorry.”

Ornstein knitted his eyebrows with a pout of confusion. “But, you… I don’t understand.”

“Just… Let’s just hope you don’t remember this tomorrow. You won’t like knowing you have been in such a... indecorous situation. Could you raise your arms, please?”

Then, after slightly struggling with the clothes to dress him as quickly as possible, Gwynsen let out a sigh, feeling visibly calmer, while Ornstein yawned.

“It pretty late, isn’t it? You should have some sleep.”

Onstein nodded and let Gwynsen move him, open the blankets of his bed and sit both of them down again, covering Ornstein's legs with them.

“Do you sleep with your hair tied up?”

Ornstein lazily shook his head. And the prince moved forward to untie the red mess, letting it fall on his shoulders. He placed his hair band besides his book, and for a few seconds, he seemed to be observing the table. 

Ornstein thought he mumbled something along the lines of a joke, so, tilting his head to try get a glimpse of his face, he asked, “What is it, my highness? What is funny?”

The prince let out a sigh, and turned to face him again. “Nothing, Ornstein. Don’t worry.” Once again, he had that weird expression that he couldn’t understand very well. “I’ll... leave you to rest now,” he said, and, slowly, like he was still deciding whether to do it or not, raised his hand and brushed away some red locks that threatened to fall in front of his eyes. 

After a few seconds of processing, Ornstein’s face changed and started to shake his head, grabbing Gwynsen’s hand between his own. “No, no, no, don’t leave me, please.”

While he was saying that, Ornstein pulled him closer, with the enough strength to force Gwynsen to put his other hand on the bed and regain his balance. 

The prince watched him closely for a brief moment with confused eyes, “Why?”

Ornstein returned the gaze, and tried to think of a proper answer that assemble all of his mixed desires. A voice inside of his head told him that the less embarrassing the answer, the better, so he ended up mumbling quietly, “Mmm… I don’t want you to go, it’s really cold here...”

“Oh, so that’s it…” Gwynsen lowered his voice, almost coming out as a whisper, with his eyebrows knitted. Then, he took a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, “I can stay for a while, but I’ll leave after you fall asleep, all right?”

Ornstein nodded with a big smile, bringing the prince hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Once again, Gwynsen closely looked at him for a while, and unexpectedly, he decided to move his fingers, faintly brushing them against his lips. Ornstein stopped leaving clumsy kisses on the hand, and observed how the prince hummed before averting his eyes to stop looking the smirk on Ornstein’s face. 

The way he looked made the knight’s heart start racing with excitement, and taking the hint, he placed a cold hand on his cheek and a pair of lips against the prince’s. But as soon as they touched, they were separated. The reaction took Ornstein aback, looking up at his wide eyed expression with a pout, not fully understanding why the prince doesn’t want to kiss him after all of his touches. 

A weird silence settled between them, allowing Gwynsen the time to have a chance for scanning his knight’s face several times. After several seconds without saying anything, Ornstein came to the conclusion that maybe he was just as excited as him and he didn’t know how to react properly. So, with a soft grunt, he moved forward to try and kiss the prince again. This time, though, Gwynsen was quickier and held his shoulder before he achieved his goal, stopping him from moving at all. 

Ornstein let out an annoyed sound from his throat. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? I don’t understand you...”

For the first time the proximity between them, just sitting with their legs touching together, face to face and just a mere head of space between their faces, didn’t made Ornstein felt nervous at all. 

It was the completely opposite of the utterly nervous expression Gwynsen had, who let out a shaky breath before opening his mouth, “We can’t do this.”

Ornstein hummed, letting his eyes linger on his lips after meeting Gwynsen’s golden eyes. Were they shining more than normally? They had such a beautiful color... 

“I know... But who cares! We are alone, right?” He said after a while.

Gwynsen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised by his response, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You are just confused… The alcohol it’s just talking for you. There is no way you would say that sober, neither you would said that to me... Right?” 

Even though Ornstein shaked his head in denial, and Gwynsen sighed wistfully, the prince move his hand and, once again, he let his fingers wander between the red locks in silent. 

Then, they looked in each other’s eyes. Gwynsen run his tongue over his bottom lip and Ornstein gazed it for a few seconds before returning to look at his eyes. But, in that time, the prince fixated his eyes on Ornstein’s lips. He swallowed hard, feeling his throat completely dry, and bit his bottom lips. Quickly, the prince locked his eyes with his again, and somehow, he was watching him in a completely different way. Ornstein let out a long shaky breath in anticipation when Gwynsen’s hand stopped playing with his hair and moved to hold his cheek.

“What… What about Ciaran?” Ornstein knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “You… We can’t do this if you are… You know... With her.”

“What are you talking about? She is not here, can’t you see it? She will not know about this…”

The prince frowned, and for a few seconds he seemed to be thinking intensely about something.

“So… you don’t want to kiss me? Because...” Ornstein shutted his mouth when Gwynsen slowly moved forward and their noses slightly brushed against each other.

“I guess… if we only kiss, and nobody knows about it… There will be no harm.” He spoke with a thin voice, almost like a whisper, with his eyes fixated on the other.

Ornstein agreed, feeling how Gwynsen’s thumb slowly traced his bottom lip. They looked in each other’s eyes for one last time, their breath mixing, after Gwynsen tilted his head and closed the gap. At first, they were close-mouthed, only cast kissed shared between them, but they were so slow that Ornstein could felt how soft the prince’s lips were and registered it somewhere in his dizzy mind. 

He felt like he was like a dream, so, fearlessly, he embrace it and parted his lips. A heavy breath with the smell of alcohol met Gwysen, but if it bothered him, he didn’t show it up. Instead, he followed the movement and deepened the kiss. 

Ornstein didn’t know how or when did he move on the bed and stood on his own knees, gaining a couple of centimeters above Gwynsen’s head, curling his arms around his neck. Neither when he started to feel a hand trailing his back up and down and an arm holding him close by his waist.

In the room, their breath and the kiss sounds were the only things that could be heard, after Ornstein spoke with a breathy voice, muffled by the others mouth. “Gwynsen...”

He broke the kiss and intently observed his eyes for a brief moment. Once again, that weird expression was on his face, and Ornstein frowned and whined, a bit annoyed because of it, but tried to search his lips again and Gwynsen, quickly, joined them with ferocity. 

They didn’t know how much time they spent in each other arms, but not longer after, Ornstein ventured himself with his hand, touching everywhere he desired. His face, his hair, his arms, his chest… 

Gwynsen hummed surprised and broke the kiss, taking Ornstein’s hand off his groin with a breathless chuckle. “I’m flattered, Ornstein, but this is off limits for today.” 

He let out another nervous chuckle, but Ornstein just looked down at him in silence before yawning. The look on the prince’s face changed, softening and maybe with a hit of sadness behind his eyes. Ornstein couldn’t decide if it was real or not.

“I think it’s time for you to sleep, it’s really late already…”

Ornstein pouted, but let the prince do whatever he wanted because he actually was starting to feel like he could sleep even standing on his own feet, and, not so later, he was covered up to the chin with a heavy blanket.

A hand was quickly taken out of it to grab Gwynsen’s hand, and Ornstein looked at him with half-lidded eyes, “Don’t go, Gwynsen.”

He shaked his head, with a closed-lip smile, “I won’t Ornstein, I promised to you, didn’t I?”

The knight just returned his smile and closed his eyes, and in the blink of an eye he was fast-out asleep.

The next morning, Ornstein woke up with a heavy headache, almost puking immediately on his bed if he hadn’t reacted quickier and moved his head to the edge. Trying to breath when he stopped gagging, he crunked his face, cursing for having the most realistic dream he has ever had with the prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> The wonderful [timnehparrot](https://twitter.com/timnehparrot) has made a beautiful fanart of this fic, which I treasure with all my heart! You can check it [here](https://twitter.com/timnehparrot/status/1262339312881819650) and give some love to it and other Timneh's works!


	9. Chapter 9

Standing there, in the middle of the corridor, late in the night with the person that has ignored Ciaran for a month was the most awkward situation ever. With every passing second of uncomfortable stares and arm scratches, she felt her irritation raising within herself, for, in her state, she just needed to reach her bedroom and not deal with Artorias after such a good day she had had.

Ciaran finally decided to pass by his side and get out of there, but his hand stopped her abruptly, grabbing her shoulder faintly almost as if he was afraid to touch her at all. Both of them looked into each other’s eyes, and Ciaran frowned, specting Artorias to, at least, say something. But he only stared at her in a dead silence, which only served as fuel to her anger.

“If you aren’t going to tell me what is your damn problem with me, leave me alone,” she grunted. And grabbing the edges of the coat over her shoulders to wrap herself tightly, Ciaran started to walk away with a frown.

Artorias followed her from behind, and she heard how he let out a deep long breath before his hand was again on her shoulder. Quickly, she pushed it aside with a single movement and turned to face him, her face wrinkled in annoyance. The sudden movement made her head slightly spin but, thankfully, Ciaran wasn’t as wasted as Ornstein was and quickly regained her balance.

“Listen, Ciaran… Ah… I want but-”

“Oh, let me guess,” Ciaran interrupted him, spitting the words with resentment. “It is because I am making things up?”

He blinked, apparently taken aback, then, a remorseful glare crossed his face. She felt fire setting inside her stomach and anger filling every part of her body because he didn’t have the right to look like an abandoned puppy when he was the one abandoning her.

“I was going to say that I can’t tell you because you are drunk…” Artorias almost murmured, “But we can talk tomorrow...” Ciaran looked up at his uncomfortable stance, a bit hunched as if he wanted to hide his tall figure. He clumsy passed his helmet between his hands, resting it below his left arm. “I mean… If you want…”

“What?! Why now?” Ciaran let out a sigh, and to her ears, it sounded three times louder, echoing in that hallway. “You know what? I’m tired of your shit.”

With that saying, she turned again while catching a glimpse of Artorias’ pale face. Maybe that was not the answer she would have given him, but right there, Ciaran couldn’t think straight as the anger she felt was clouding her mind. 

He neither was soothing her. As soon as Ciaran heard his steps, she faced him with and angry furrow. “Don’t follow me! What are you trying to do?”

“I just… You don’t seem very well…”

“And? That’s none of your business!” She was pointing a him with one of her fingers in an accusatory manner. “First you act strangely around me, then I am making things up and you start avoiding me, and now you are concerned of my well-being? You are an hypocrite bastard!”

“Ciaran, you don’t understand it…”

“Oh, then please, fucking enlighten me because I’ve been wondering for a fucking month why one of my best friend all of a sudden decide to cut me off without giving me a damn explanation!” She said, raising her voice gradually, fully clouded by anger.

Artorias clenched his jaw, “This is not the moment...”

“Then, when, Artorias?!” She spat, clenching her fists, her knuckles turning white. Artorias, noticing it, took a step back. “Perhaps after an another month? Or how about a year?! When are you going to grow the guts to speak to me?”

“I just don’t want to discuss this right now, Ciaran,” he said, looking down at her with a sorrowful look.

“Well, then, leave me the fuck alone.” She turned, and started to walk away.

Artorias just fell silent for a couple of seconds. 

“You are right, Ciaran. I’m sorry.” His words made her stop and turn again, looking at him with her lips pressed on a thin line. Artorias’ gaze was fixed on his feet while he mumbled, “I know I haven’t done things in the right way, but it is true that I still care about you and I know that no matter what I say you are going to still be angry at me… But just let me be sure you get safe to your room this night, please?”

“No.”

Again, that remorseful glare crossed Artorias face. “All right, that’s… That’s fine... I get it. Please, just be careful and don’t hurt you on your way.”

Ciaran hummed and turned again, “Don’t tell me what to do. You have no right.”

Then, she walked away as fast as her trembling feet let her. Turning a corner, she suddenly felt very dizzy, with a lump in her throat, and leaned on a wall to take a few breaths, needing a few seconds to regain herself. 

When Ciaran was finally at her room, sitting on her bed, she almost threw up and the room started to spin around her. She felt like it was hard to breath with the image of Artorias stuck on her mind and her eyes clouded by tears. Quickly, she got rid of her clothes and buried herself under her soft covers, feeling a nasty mixture of angry and sadness and wanting not to think anymore and to stop her mind from swinging around in her messy thoughts about Artorias.

To think she just wanted to feel good at the start of the night… She didn’t know how much time did she spent fighting with her head, but she ended up falling asleep with a puddle of wetness on her pillow. 

The next morning, Ciaran woke up and remained still on her bed, as if all of her energy was completely drained out of her body. For a while, she just stared at the ceiling, with what she felt as puffy eyes, while her mind started to remember what had happened last night. Bits of the conversation started to repeat multiple times on her mind, along with the sad eyes of Artorias looking at her. Ciaran grunted and rubbed her face hard, trying to get the memories out of her head.

Then, the face of Ornstein, looking down at her with a bloody smile, abruptly came to her mind. She looked at the ceiling confused for a few seconds, and with a sigh, she pushed aside her blankets and raised to her feet, whining because of the sudden pain of her head.

After taking a bath, brushing her messy blond hair and putting some fresh clothes on, she headed to Ornstein’s room and knocked repeatedly on his door. Not longer after, it was opened by the face of a ghost. Immediately, he turned to got to his bed.

“What happened to you last night?” She said, with a raspy voice, and squinted at him.

“That’s a good question.” Ornstein puffed.

After closing the door behind her, Ciaran wrinkled her nose as soon as the awful smell hit her. “For fuck sake, Ornstein, at least you could open your window.”

Ciaran didn’t get any answer before she opened it and a cold fresh air met the thick atmosphere of the room. She leaned on its frame, not wanting to smell the puke in all its glory, and watched her friend make his bed.

“I remember that you had blood on your face.”

“Huh, that can explain why my clothes were stained on it.”

She sighed, “We shouldn’t have drunk that much, I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into it after making you promise me you won’t get smashed again.”

Ornstein shrugged when he finished puffing a pillow, “No need to worry, at least we had fun as you wanted, didn’t we?” Then, he looked at her eyes for the first time that day and grimaced in confusion. “Have you been crying?” 

“I think so. The night was going pretty well until we saw Artorias…”

“We... saw Artorias?”

“Why the fact that you can’t remember anything doesn’t surprise me?” Ciaran let out a low short chuckle, shaking her head and regretting the movement instantly. “For your information, Prince Gwynsen was there too, I think you two went to your room.”

Ornstein took a moment to think, scratching his chin, “Mm... Probably that’s why I don’t have any injuries...” he murmured, but then, he glared at Ciaran, squinting, “Anyway, what happened with Artorias?”

When she opened her mouth to answer, her stomach rumbled really loud, and, as if Ornstein’s stomach had life on his own, it followed hers right away. 

Both of them looked at each other for a solid second in silence, after Ornstein spoke, “Shit, we’ve passed the time for breakfast.”

“Oh, fuck… No, now I’m starving.” Ciaran let out a sigh, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe… Maybe I could cook something.”

Later, on their way to the kitchen, Ciaran explained the discussion they had and Ornstein listened as careful as his headache let him, nodding and asking questions to be sure he had understood her. Once there, she asked the maids who were tending the kitchen if they could use it and they agreed, leaving the place for the two of them alone. 

Then, Ciaran started cooking, not letting Ornstein help her so he can see what she can do by herself and what she has learned. 

Their chatter was intermittent, with both of them as tired as they were and having a headache it was difficult to have one of their usuals conversations. And from time to time, Ciaran just kept focused on preparing the food, which was just their usual breakfast but least substantial and smaller, and Ornstein, well, he was just existing with his arms folded over the table and his head between them.

After a while, he let out the longest sigh Ciaran had ever hear from him, so she turned around and looked at Ornstein with an eyebrow arched.

“I had the worst dream ever,” came his muffled voice.

“About Prince Gwynsen?” Ornstein shushed her, raising his head slightly to give her a look which told her not to say his name. “I thought you stopped having that dreams.”

“Well, me too. But last night I had a pretty weird one, like, it was the most realistic one I’ve ever had.”

Ciaran hummed, thoughtfully, “Are you sure it was not real? You never have that kind of dreams.”

Ornstein snorted, smiling bitterly. “I’m pretty sure that making out with him is something that definitely didn’t happen.”

“Making out?” She chuckled.

Then, a weird smell started to reach Ciaran’s nose and, with a frown, she turned quickly to face the food starting to burn out.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” 

Quickly, Ciaran removed the pan from the fire and started to extinguish the small fire on it. Feeling the gaze of Ornstein upon her didn’t improve the situation, and when she turned to face him after letting a long sigh, she was met by a teasing grin.

“So, at the end, you were actually trying to poison me.”

“Listen, you-”

Ciaran suddenly went quiet and Ornstein arched his eyebrows to where she was looking. Under the frame of the kitchen door was standing Artorias, fully clothed on his armor and with his sword hanging off his back. He fidgeted uneasy on his feet before he decided to walk over them and take off his helmet.

“I… Ah… A maiden told me you were here,” Artorias said, biting his lower lip and scratching his nose. 

He got no answer. Ornstein just rested his cheek on the palm of his hand and Ciaran crossed her arms in front of her chest. Both of them looking at him with a plain face. 

A bitter feeling raised inside Ciaran, and despite she has always thought thoughtfully about the things she said, she couldn’t stop her mouth from spatting, “Are you going to let us know that you still can’t tell what is your problem with us or what?”

Ornstein gave her a quick look, saying with his eyes that probably that was not the best thing to say, but she just frowned and looked back at Artorias, who took a deep breath, fixating his gaze on the floor.

“Actually, no,” he murmured. “I want to apology to you.”

Then, Ornstein shifted on his sit and raised up. “Then, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No!” Artorias raised his hand, and Ornstein blinked. “I mean, both of you.”

Ciaran briefly looked at Ornstein, a bit unsure if this was going to be an actual apology or another effort of Artorias to extend this unfortunate situation. But after a few seconds of silence where Ornstein recolocated himself where he was, she gave Artorias a gesture with her hand for him to keep talking.

He nodded, closing the distance between him and the table and took a sit, leaving his sword leaning by his side and his helmet on top of the table. Once again, he scratched his nose.

“I… I am deeply sorry of what I have done,” he started softly. “After all this time I think I no longer expect you two to forgive me, because I’ve been the worst friend ever, but after what you said to me last night,” he looked at her, “I’ve thought about this better and this is not what you both deserve from me.” Artorias was stumbling over his own words, and from time to time, he quickly switched his attention to Ciaran, Ornstein and back to the table. “Specially you, Ciaran, you don’t deserve my lies.”

“But then… Why have you been avoiding us?” She spoke, feeling weirdly uneasy by the mixture of emotions she was starting to have.

“Please, believe me this time when I tell you that it’s still a complicated matter. I know it doesn’t excuse me from the things I’ve done, but I want to assure you that I won’t repeat my actions anymore. I’ll swear it on my honor. And when the time comes, I will explain what happened to me, just... Right now, I don’t feel prepared, neither… I feel it’s a good time to say it.”

Artorias shifted uncomfortably on his sit, playing with his fingers. A silence grow between them, Ciaran and Ornstein exchanged looks, and after a while Artorias raised up.

“I know you won’t forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that much from you after knowing how you felt last night, Ciaran, and I just can imagine how angry you are at me, Ornstein, for avoiding you all of a sudden. But I wanted to let you know that I deeply regret my actions, that’s all... I’ll leave you alone, then.”

“Wait, Artorias…” Ciaran spoke softly, suddenly feeling her throat dry and her body freezing despite the heavy coat she was wearing. The remorseful look on his face truly stirred something inside her, and unexpectedly, her hands were slightly trembling. 

Artorias stopped on his steps and turned around to met once again an awkward silence where everybody looked at each other without knowing exactly what to say next. 

Ciaran really wanted to say something, anything, but she was overwhelmed by her own feelings. What she was supposed to do? Forgive him after all the nights she had cried completely distressed? After all the days she tried to figure out what she had done to him? Questioning every one of her actions? But he was Artorias, right? The kindest man she has ever met, the sweetest man who brought her everytime a small wild flower after his walks, the carying man who always used to listen to her problems even in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, Ornstein raised from his chair, scratching his head, and went to grab the pan with burned food on it, placing it on the table where Artorias could reach it easily.

“We could forgive you if you eat this. As a prove that you are saying the truth.”

Artorias gulped, looking at the awful mass of brown food with his eyebrows knitted in concern. But, either way, he sat on the chair and grabbed a big handful of food without minding if his gauntlet got dirty. Ciaran raised her eyebrow and when he actually took a bit, she stepped closer to remove the pan in front of him. 

Ornstein just let out a hopeless sigh.

“Spit that out, you dumbass,” he said, softly hitting him on his forehead with the back of his hand before letting out a breathless chuckle of incredulously. “Why do you take me seriously? Have you met me today?”

Artorias just looked at him with his cheek puffed before going to a small trash can to spit the burned food.

“I just can’t believe you,” sighed Ciaran, hanging him a glass of water for him to clean his mouth.

After Artorias spat out the remainings of the food, he looked down at her, then, at Ornstein, with his eyes sparkling hope. “This means that you’ll forgive me?”

Ciaran could swear if he had had a tail, he would be waging it right now. Damn, he can reach her soft spot effortless.

“Of course, Artorias,” said Ornstein gently, leaning his cheek on his palm to now watch Ciaran and Artorias closely.

Once again, she felt speechless, feeling everybody’s stares on her.

“Don’t feel pressure to forgive me. I completely understand your reasons, Ciaran,” Artorias spoke softly, with the ghost of a sad smile on his lips.

She let out a sigh, scratching her nape. “You could have said that from the beginning, you know…”

Artorias nodded, “I know I shouldn’t have said that awful things to you, not even in a thousands lives I could express how sorry I am.”

Ciaran sighed again, biting her lip, “I… think I forgive you, Artorias.”

He lit up immediately. “Thank you, Ciaran! And thank you too, Ornstein! I truly don’t deserve you.”

Artorias took a step forward to Ciaran, but stopped midway. For his stance, she could guess that he was going to hug her but stopped because he still felt bad and guilty. Ciaran, though, gave him a lip-closed smile, closing the space and hugging him instead, wrapping her arms around the tense torso of his friend until he relaxed and hug her back.

“Artorias, when you are ready you can talk to us about your problem. We’ll help you with whatever happened to you, all right?” Ornstein said with a little smile.

“Yes, that’s what friends do,” replied Ciaran, taking a step back from him.

Artorias scratched his nose, tensing up slightly, but nodded and thanked them once again. Then, both Ornstein and Ciaran’s stomachs rumbled loudly.

“Ah… I should try to prepare another breakfast.”

“Huh, sure! But I’m going to help you this time, I don’t trust you around fire anymore,” Ornstein said while he was raising up from his seat.

Ciaran felt the silent gaze of Artorias upon then, and turned to him. “Do you want to stay? You are invited to.”

He blinked before shaking his head, “No! I… I still have duties to attend. But I will see you at dinner.”

“At dinner?” asked Ciaran.

“Yes, I have a busy day today!”

“A busy day? Then, what are you still doing here?” Ornstein looked at him with a frown and his arms crossed on his chest.

Artorias raised his eyebrows, his expression falling, and stiffened himself. “Ah… I’m sorry captain! I’ll take my leave now, goodbye!”

Ornstein and Ciaran let out a sight. What a silly man he was.

Later that night, for the first time after more than a month, the four Knights of Gwyn were back to normal, talking and laughing as they used to, and Ciaran couldn’t be more happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I want to let you know that the fanfic will only have three more chapters. At first, it was going to be shorter than how it is right now, but the ideas just came to me and I needed to write them hehe. Now, I only need to close a few things and everything will be done!  
> Thank you so much for reading this so far and I hope that you enjoy the future chapters!


	10. Chapter 10

When the birthday of a Royal Family’s member was near, the week before said day the palace was filled with a festive spirit, the castle’s doors were opened to everybody, ornamental tapestries were hanged everywhere to signalice the great day, Silver Knights were more relaxed and had less jobs to fulfill, and every night there was a new party to celebrate.

But, also, the Lord’s Blades’ work was increased dramatically.

There was a tradition in Lordran which consisted in offering presents to the deities during those weeks, whether it was directly to them or leaving it as an offer on their altars. Everybody who was devoted wanted to thank them for their protection and, why not, receive their blessings for another year of fortune. So, as there was a huge amount of peasants who wanted to give the present directly to them, they travelled from every place of Lordran to visit the castle of Anor Londo. 

Due to that, the Lord's Blades became the eyes behind every corner and door, analysing every person near the family, ready to protect them in any circumstances. As there were many who wanted to celebrate, there were as many who wanted to stain those days with blood, and they needed to be taken care of.

On one of the coldest weeks in Anor Londo, the birthday of Prince Gwynsen was celebrated, and the warmth of the castle was more than enough to invite the devotees of the God of War into it. However, anybody who served the family knew that he prefered to be doing other exciting activities rather than staying sat at the throne room, giving blessings and receiving prayers for more than one day and for several hours. 

Even so, Lord Gwyn forced him to do it for the family’s name, for his title and the image he was giving to his future reign. 

Of course, Ciaran had to be near the prince during those hours, on the shadow, analysing whoever comes near him, ready to take measures in case there was any threat. And because she was the most qualified to directly protect Prince Gwynsen, she was the only Blade who had to spent more hours on her shift.

Fortunately for everybody, the days went by without any incidents and Ciaran only needed to be patient and observe the throne room, where a part of people attending it were normal modest villagers, seeking for protection of their homes and wishing for another year without dragons, and another big part were the army itself, who also wanted protection upon their daily lives.

Most of the presents given to Prince Gwynsen were money or weapons, which, apparently, was a common believe in Lordran that those were the only things which could please him. But after observing him over the years, Ciaran has learned, from the way his face lit up, that he preferred when he was gifted food. 

She had to admit that it came as a bit of a surprise to her, including when during one of her shifts, and by chance, she came across the Prince sneaking to Lord Gwyndolin’s chamber with a cookie’s basket that a peasant gave to him. Knowing that the little Lord didn’t has his birthday celebrated the same way as his other siblings had, Ciaran thought that it was a very heartwarming act coming from him.

For the other presents though, she had no clue where they truly ended at the end of the week but it was obvious to everybody that, after it, he didn’t kept the money and the weapons for himself.

Another thing she has been noticing those days was that the prince mood dropped with each passing hour sitting at the throne room. And by the way he stiffened and let out an almost imperceptible sigh after identifying whoever new came in, she couldn’t stop herself to wonder who was he actually waiting for and who was keeping him in such a hopeless mood. 

After all, Ciaran needed to entertain herself during the most idle hours. And, after a family left and it seemed that no one was coming in for a while, the most wonderful idea popped up on her mind and a smile was spreaded on her face. 

_Gods, what if the prince is awaiting Ornstein?_ , she thought.

Although she didn’t know why, her friend hasn’t shown himself up after three days into the week, and he used to be one of the first ones to wish him a happy birthday. Mentally, she took a note to ask him later, but now, she wanted him to appear through that door and see if her theory was true.

_Oh…. if that is true I’m going to have so much fun teasing him!_

Her thoughts came to a stop when a family entered the hall, and after another back stiffness and sigh, Ciaran was back again on analysing every single movement of the six new people in there. For a while, she needed to push her theory to the back of her mind.

Much later, when the sun was close to set and the castle’s doors were shut by a pair of Silver Knights, the prince raised from his seat and stretched, letting out a loud noise of satisfaction.

"I truly don't know how you can bear to wait this much, Lady Ciaran. I bet it’s really boring for you too," he said with a raised voice tone, probably ensuring she could hear him from wherever she was.

Ciaran left her hiding place and, in the blink of an eye, she appeared by his side, bowing politely. "For your safety, my Lord, anything.”

As Ciaran didn’t get any answers for a few seconds, she raised slightly her head, just enough to gaze at the prince and know that he was looking at the maid gathering the presents from the area everybody had been leaving them.

“Would you rather have a less tiring job?” His voice came out as a mumble, the hard line of his shoulders saying something she couldn’t place.

Under her mask, she grimaced a bit startled. “No, my Lord. Being able to protect you is one of the highest honours I could be granted.”

“But, are you not tired? And, please, be sincere, I won’t be mad at your answer. In fact, I’ll understand it, as in my knowledge is that you are the only one of the Blades who is every day and every hour keeping an eye on me.”

Ciaran straightened herself, observing his back for a while before giving a proper answer. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but I am not. In fact, I barely notice tiredness while I’m on duty.”

He hummed lowly, turning around and looking down at her. When she fixed her eyes with his, she wondered why the prince had such concerned expression on his face and why he tried to quickly hide it.

“I... wish for you to take more breaks, Lady Ciaran.”

“I’m afraid I can not, my orders are given directly by your father, Lord Gwyn, and I can’t disobey them even if those are your wishes.”

“Then, do you want me to suggest it to my Lord father?”

Ciaran was starting to feel a bit uneasy, not able to fully understand why out of nowhere the prince was so worried about her, being actually the first time he was so direct doing that.

“With all due respects, my Lord, would you allow me to ask you something?”

He raised his eyebrows, and the energy he put on his words took Ciaran aback. “Of course, what troubles you? Please, tell me.”

“May I ask you for why is it the sudden concern for my well-being?”

After her question, there was a moment of silence on which Prince Gwynsen fidgeted with one of his bracelets and avoided to look at her.

“For… Nothing special,” he said, with a hint of stammering under his tone, which made Ciaran narrow her eyes. “I thought that… I should be more considered with my knights, and since you are working to protect me…” He smiled, but Ciaran has seen that kind of smile multiple times to recognize it as the smile of a liar in an instant. 

Still, the only thing Ciaran could do was to suppress a sigh and vow politely, “I’m very grateful of your concern, my Lord, but, your Lord father already knows which is the best way for me to work, and the best way to protect you, of course.” Gwynsen blinked at her, and his forehead slightly twitched in an attempt to furrow. “If you excuse me, your highness, I must take my leave now.”

“Well, then… As you wish,” he answered, making a brief move with his hand.

The whole conversation had been strange, to say the least, knowing that it was one of the few times the prince has directly addressed her after the Dragon War. But to think that he had hidden reasons to be concerned about her… Well. Ciaran decided to let it go at the end of the day, for, after all, it was almost impossible for her to dig further in the matter. 

And she thought that that was the end of it, the conversation and the concern would only remain as a strange moment that only happened that day. But no, on the next one, whenever happened to be no one inside the throne room, the prince asked her if she was feeling tired and doing alright, again with that concern behind his eyes.

The most strange situation for Ciaran happened when, before the castle’s door were opened on the penultimate day of the week, under the limp light of sunrise, Ciaran finally brought her present to him. Which was just a really small cake she did with the supervision of Gough, but, even so, she hoped that it was good enough for he and Lord Gwyndolin.

So, after expecting for a few seconds the usual blessing he said after taking a present, Ciaran was only met by an uncomfortable dead silence and a weird atmosphere. 

She raised from the floor where she kneeled to offer the present and the mournful expression she saw on his face, made her stomach shrink, half with concern, half with discomfort. “My lord, is there any problem? Is the present not for your liking?”

Prince Gwynsen’s glance snapped to her and his expression changed radically, showing again that fake smile. “Oh, no, no, Lady Ciaran. I really like your present, it looks really tasteful.”

“Then, may I ask you the reason of your discomfort?”

“It’s… just that I don’t…” The Prince stumbled on his own words, eyebrows furrowed and avoiding to look at the expressionless white mask of Ciaran. “I’m a bit sleepy yet, that’s all. I apologize if my behaviour has unsettled you.”

“You don’t need to apologize, your highness. In any case I have to be the one apologizing instead, for questioning yourself.”

The Prince looked down at her for a few seconds before clearing his throat in discomfort and averting his gaze once again. Then, he proceeded to chant his blessing upon her, and, when the doors were opened and the first peasants entered the castle, everybody was back on their position. 

Of course, later that day, and after the day was fulfilled, a new party was hosted to celebrate the upcoming birthday and everybody was gathered at the dining hall.

The parties done in honor of Prince Gwynsen have always been a bit different. Because of his wishes, it was not strictly closed to the nobility and others Gods so his knights could also attend it. Therefore, a big part of the pompous nobility and non-family closed Gods prefered to stay away of the castle. And, as everybody knew, the Prince was more than happy to not have them there and, instead, have a more informal party. At the end, it was between knights and battles where the prince had been raised, not between pretentiousness and excessive displays of fake courtesy.

Another of his wished was that he wanted to sit with his knights without any complain of his father. And, for once, Lord Gwyn allowed his wishes, though probably he had thought that of all things he could ask for, those were the most absurd ones.

Ciaran herself didn’t think they were silly, but caused a pretty big mess. Without the separation and order Lord Gwyn imposed, everything turned really informal and a lot of tables were clumped together to unite large groups of friends regardless of their titles inside the army. If normally the dining hall was pretty loud everyday, Ciaran knew for sure that during those days their voices could be heard from every place in Lordran.

Somehow, despite the free will to choose where to sit, the Knights of Gwyn always ended up close, and that night couldn’t be less. 

With Gough’s archers sitting at their side, the night was filled with weird stories about their training or their competitions outside the castle in which they ended up hitting things that weren’t supposed to, like when one of them happened to hit a pigeon with a royal message and, after reading the content, they’ve been hoping that whoever was in threat could escape in time.

After eating, the dining hall was filled with movement as a lot of people started to exchange sits, to raise and dance in the messy space they created between the tables. One of Ciaran’s Lord’s Blade fellows sat by her side and both of them started to chat. Not long after, Artorias joined their conversation while Ornstein and Gough talked with a pair of Ornstein’s students. And, when they left, the prince sat abruptly besides Ornstein and another round of stories started, but not without Ciaran noticing the weird looks Prince Gwynsen gave to him before finally deciding to sit down.

The alcohol was a big constant during the night, which helped everybody to get a bit loose on their moods, but Ciaran noticed that, in spite of Gough and Artorias’ attempts to make Ornstein drink, he refused to do so every time.

“You are becoming a boring old man,” Artorias said, wrinkling his nose with resignation after his seventh attempt to convince him.

“Bah, leave him alone, Artorias! This way there is more for us!” Gough exclaimed, raising his cup in cheers towards him.

Artorias laughed and raised his cup as well, and across the table, Ciaran smiled funny at him.

“I wonder why it is,” she said and Ornstein rolled his eyes at her.

“It’s just that I have enough drunkenness for a while. Maybe in another time I’ll join you but, for now, I’ll stay sober.”

“Huh, I don’t doubt it. Better if you avoid breaking your nose again!” said the prince, before letting out a chuckle and patting his back.

Then, in just a couple of seconds, the laugh died and he opened his mouth to speak again, with a teasing smile, but felt silent when Ornstein looked at him, averting his eyes and shifting slightly uncomfortable on his sit. And just when Ornstein was about to say something, Artorias raised abruptly.

“Hey! I want to join too!” With that said, he walked to another table where a group of knights were arm-fighting and jokingly booing at a knight who just loosed. 

The matter died with Artorias leaving, and another one was brought by one of Gough’s archers. But for a brief moment, Ciaran looked eyes with Prince Gwynsen, who clenched his jaw and moved slightly away from Ornstein.

When the night reached almost midnight, a lot of people had already left, too smashed to still be in a mood for a party, including Artorias. There, only remained, beside the other three Knights of Gwyn and the prince himself, a bunch of knights talking idly and a couple more trying to carry out a wasted friend.

“Ah…” Gough sighed. “It’s a shame there is only one more day left for your birthday, my Lord. Your parties truly are the best ones.”

He lazyly looked down at the prince, who smiled at him with his cheeks a bit red by the alcohol. “Thank you, Gough. I’m really glad that you enjoy it.”

“Mm… I wonder when will we have another good party…”

Ornstein gave him a quick look, before returning to play with his empty cup idly. “This one is not over yet and you are already thinking about the next party? You amaze me, Gough.”

“Hah! Well, of course, not everytime we can enjoy such a good reunion with everybody.”

“Yeah, sure. You only want to get drunk with a bad pretext!” Ciaran said mockingly.

Gough returned the smile, crossing his arms. “Well, then, maybe a good pretext can be to celebrate your wedding, right? And you only have to hurry up and arrange everything. You know, Ornstein, some men has taken less time to propose to their partners!”

Ciaran snorted and Ornstein stopped playing with his cup, looking first at Ciaran before gazing up at Gough with the most confused expression no one has ever seen on him. But Gough just looked blankly at them, waiting for an answer.

“Wait, are you serious?” asked Ciaran, changing her tone and frowning, a bit surprised.

“Of course! Once I met a man that proposed to a woman just a week after they met.”

“Eh? But… Gough, we aren’t together…” Ornstein said, with his mouth hang open in confusion.

Then, the prince suddenly choked on his drink, and all the eyes were on him.

“My lord, are you alright?” Ornstein asked, now with an expression full of concern.

“Yes, yes,” Prince Gwynsen answered between coughs. “It’s just that…” He cleared his throat. “You said you two aren’t together?” Weirdly, his voice came on a bit strangled.

“Of course not!” Both of them exclaimed at the same time and Gough let out a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Huh, and here I was thinking you two made a great couple. Though I must say that I always thought that if you was going to end up with someone, Ciaran, it was going to be with Artorias.”

With Gough’s weird ideas, the weird reaction of the prince and now that confesion, Ciaran felt her brain was starting to burn out, and, involuntary, a nervous chuckle escaped from her lips.

“For the gods, where did you get that crazy ideas?!” she asked, in an attempt to push to the back of her mind how exposed she suddenly felt.

“Mm… Let me think… If I remember well, it was a maiden who saw both of you coming out really early of Ornstein’s room. Then, you all started to be together all the time and a bunch of other maiden saw both of you going to each other’s room during the night…” Gough said, switching his gaze between Ciaran and Ornstein. “You know, I’m quite surprised that you haven’t heard the rumours saying you were together when they started, Ciaran.”

She looked briefly at Ornstein, knowing quite well that he hated rumours, but instead of meeting an angry face, he was a bit pale and probably still processing everything. Maybe his brain was starting to burn out as well. Then, she looked at the Prince, who had a weird expression she had trouble identifying and wasn’t stopping to switch his glare between Ornstein and she.

“Well, lately I’ve been sent to the town so...” she mumbled at last.

“Wait…” spoke Ornstein, his voice coming out in a tiny voice. “If those are rumours that both of you know, then, who else knows it?” 

“Ah… Pretty much everybody.” Prince Gwynsen answered. “Even my father is aware of it.”

Then, Ciaran could swear she saw the moment when Ornstein was been eaten whole by his own embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I didn't know which was the feminine word for Sir and after looking at a few internet forums, Dame was the winning one. Though it don't fully convince me, and I don't know why, I decided to use it, but if you have a better word, I'll appreciate if you let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

The sound of hurried metallic steps filled the corridor that lead to the throne room. Under it, Ornstein murmured breathless curses to himself, for he had lost the track of time in the most stupid way possible after deciding to take a short break from his paperwork and rest after the next chime. 

He just wanted not to feel so tired that night, the actual birthday of Prince Gwynsen, but he underestimated how tired he actually was feeling and ended up sleeping through the last afternoon’s hours. Now, not only Ornstein was behind on all the paperwork he needed to read, review and sign, but also in a race against time to reach the throne room until the doors were closed and the prince gone.

Unfortunately, Ornstein wasn’t lucky enough, and the empty silent was the only one who greeted him. 

He paused to catch his breath, his heart pounding loudly, both from running from one side of the castle to another in an instant and from the fear of disappointing the prince after not giving him a gift in time. 

Ornstein clenched the present in his hands and cursed the moment he had such a stupid gift idea. But it was not the time for him to grumble now, so he collected himself after another deep breath and decided to start looking for Gwynsen.

Right when he was walking away, a voice made him flinch. 

“You are a bit late,” He turned to face Ciaran, who was resting against the hard marmol of the throne and looking at him through the eyes of her white mask. “The prince left not long ago. Only a few minutes before and you would have meet here.”

In spite of being a bit startled to see her there, he simply asked, “Do you know where he has gone?”

“The prince said he was going to his chambers,” Ciaran responded, and, immediately, he could feel her eyes trailing down to his present. “So, a scarf. That’s what made you take so long to come here? Why didn’t you tell me? You know, I could have helped you with the present.”

“I... I don’t have time right now,” he said, a bit impatient. “But I’ll explain it to you later. Now, if you excuse me…”

“Sure. I’ll see you later, them.”

Ornstein nodded, turning around and heading to the prince’s chambers as fast as he could, again the metallic clank of his armour sounding against the walls. 

When he reached his door, Ornstein could feel his heart pounding on his chest again, so loud that probably it could be heard perfectly from the other side of the door. 

Before knocking, he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down, though unsuccessful. His hands started to shake and Ornstein cursed under his breath, feeling like an idiot to be so nervous for seeing him.

On his way, his mind had been clouded again with that bitter insecurity he had been feeling over that week. The thought of multiple scenarios, in which Gwynsen was either mad or disappointed because he hadn’t been one of the first to be at the throne room (as it was expected from him, being his first knight) or even because his present wasn’t to his liking nor worth enough, had made him spent more hours overthinking and worried that he would ever admit. And now, it was stopping him from knocking on a dumb door.

Like a mantra, he started to repeat in his mind that Gwynsen has never got angry nor disappointed at him for such trivial matters and there was no point in worrying about it. He told that to himself after he felt slightly calmer.

_ My mind only wants to play with my insecurities, as always _ , he thought, standing there for a few seconds contemplating the door. 

_ Right? _

He decided to knock on the door right away and end with this for once and for all, before his mind started to tell him again that he was, in fact, wrong, and no matter how many reassuring words he could said, everything was going to turn out bad. 

But when he raised his hand, the door was abruptly opened, and out of instinct, Ornstein took a cautious step back, completely surprised and with his breath caught in his throat. Prince Gwynsen looked down at him, at first, with a blank expression, then, after he blinked, he slightly raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, his eyes suddenly shining with an emotion he couldn’t place at all.

“Ornstein?”

The knight cleared his throat, and lowered his hand which was hanging dumbly on the air, probably making him seem like an idiot. Then, he took on one knee and presented the gift up.

“My Lord, I beg your pardon for taking so long. I’m deeply sorry of being the last one to give you a present. Still, I foolishly hope that, at least, you could accept it, even though I know I don’t deserve such courtesy from your grace.”

There was a moment of silence in which Ornstein was starting to sweat and a nasty feeling was twisting inside out his stomach.

“Ornstein.” Gwynsen’s voice startled him, a soft tone filling the corridor. “Please, raise up.”

He did what he was told to, and his jaw clenched at the surprised look he was given.

_ I have made a fool of myself, haven’t I? _

“Can I take your present?” Now, the prince had a little smile playing on his lips. 

“Of course, my Lord.”

Only in that moment, when Gwynsen bent down, he noticed he had a basket filled with pastries in one of his hands, which he carefully placed on the floor. Ornstein’s eyes following every one of his movements, even when he carefully picked the scarf out of his hands and caress the fabric.

“Oh, how soft!” He exclaimed with a smile. “I’m quite surprised. You’ve never given me something like this before. How did the idea occurred to you?”

He was unfolding the brown scarf and starting to wrap it around his neck, unaware of the red cheeks behind the lion face.

“I… Ah.” He cleared his throat, “A couple of weeks before you were complaining about the cold weather and since you’ve lost your old one…”

Gwynsen hummed appreciatively, “You alway pay attention to everything that troubles me.”

No response followed that, allowing a silent to set between them. Ornstein felt the urge to swallow, his face hot and suddenly feeling at lost. His words certainly ringed the shyness bell in him, but why was he looking at Ornstein… fondly?

After a second that felt eternal, Ornstein adventured to ask the big question that kept swirling around in his head. “Are you... mad, my Lord?”

Gwynsen blinked behind the fabric, and knitted his eyebrows in a confused expression. “Mad about what, Ornstein?”

“Because I’ve been the last one to give you a present, when I was… When I was supposed to be one of the firsts. And… And after all this time, this present isn’t even what you actually deserve. Certainly not after all this waiting.”

“Oh…” Gwynsen raised his eyebrows, in full comprehension. “So... that’s why you’ve been so distant these days.” He let out a short breathless laugh. “I’ve thought that… That you were annoyed… I mean, ah, that I’ve done something to upset you.”

“Annoyed with you, my Lord? How in the world?” Ornstein asked, completely startled now. Definitely he wasn’t expecting the conversation to have this turn, it was almost a bit absurd. 

Gwynsen seemed to reconsider his next words for a second and shaked his head. “Don’t listen to me, it was just a dumb thought... Now, I understand that probably you were just overthinking.” He smiled friendly at him, but Ornstein felt a bit exposed. “And, of course, I’m not angry at you, Ornstein, in fact, I wanted to ask you what was wrong but I didn’t know how to do it without also sounding like I’m demanding something from you.”

The relief in his voice was something he wasn’t expecting at all, but it immediately caused him to feel a bit unsease.

“I’m deeply sorry that my actions made you felt that way, my Lord,” he said, biting his bottom lip unconsciously.

“No need to apologize, Ornstein. Just… Next time don’t think about it so hard, alright?” He said, starting to fidget with one of the scarf’s ends idly. “I really like your present, and... even if you gave me a rock, I will treasure it...” 

The prince mumbled the last phrase, but it was loud enough for it to reach Ornstein’s ears and create a nervous knot in his stomach. Then, Gwynsen buried his nose in the fabric but without taking his eyes off the lion face, trying to get a glimpse of the actual knight’s eyes through his visor. 

Ornstein, for his part, missed something to grab onto, not liking the weird feeling of having both of his hands hanging off in the air, and cursed his mind to run out of his room without taking his spear with him.

“I… My Lord, I’m glad that you liked it. It makes me really happy,” Ornstein said, stumbling on his own words and trying really hard to ignore what he had said. 

At last, Gwynsen smiled fondly, “What is your wish, Ornstein?”

“My wish, your highness?” Ornstein asked, but the seconds the words left his mouth, his brain decided to step out of the astonishment and realize he was talking about the normal blessing following the present. “Oh…” Gwynsen giggled, noticing what had happened inside Ornstein’s head just by the tone of his voice. “I… I do not wish nothing, my Lord.”

Or at least he wouldn’t ask anything because, despite Gwynsen not being angry at him, he still felt a bit ashamed to end up giving his present in his door.

“Nothing? Are you sure? You know, you can ask anything you want...” he said, tilting his head. But Ornstein simply nodded and Gwynsen sighed in response. “Alright... Then, thank so much you for your present, Ornstein.”

Gwynsen suddenly remembered the basket, bending down to pick it up, before looking down at Ornstein with a smile. 

“I was about to go to Gwyndolin’s chamber. A baker gave me this pastries which happened to be Gwyndolin’s favourites. If you wish to accompany us, you are more than welcome.”

“I’m sorry, my Lord, but I must reject. I still have work to finish.”

“A shame, but as you wish, Ornstein.” Gwynsen closed the door behind him and Ornstein took a step back, to let more space between them. “I’ll see you at dinner, I hope. Oh! And remember, you haven’t seen me give this to Gwyndolin.”

“Of course, your highness,” he answered with a little smile.

Ornstein vowed politely, gaining a close-lip smile from the prince. Then, he turned around and, for a few seconds, Ornstein watched the ends of the scarf, moving in the air behind Gwynsen’s back, before deciding to return to his room.

When the party was long advanced, and after the candles cake were blown, a huge mess of people dancing carelessly was created in the middle of the hall. 

Despite being a lot of knights who were in the mood to dance, some more skilled than others, but having fun nonetheless, there was a small group that prefered to stay at the table. And, to everyone’s surprise, Gwynsen was one of them. Ornstein, for instance, had been dragged by Ciaran and forced to clumsy dance with her, who was holding his hands and laughing at his lack of coordination.

It has been more than a couple of times that Ornstein’s eyes has wandered over the prince, feeling like he was been observed. But as Ornstein always looked at him just when Gwynsen averted his gaze, focusing it on the other knights, he decided not to pay too much attention to it. Well, maybe he slightly did it, because he was not the best dancer in the world after all, and to know he was showing himself like that in front of him...

After a while of feeling acutely exposed, he had enough and begged Ciaran to let him go. She gazed briefly at the prince, and for the amusement hum she let out, Ornstein could guess that he has been caught looking at him. At last, Ciaran agreed, probably having mercy after watching how his face was starting to redden, and both of them returned to the same table Gwynsen was sitting at.

Princess Gwynevere was there too, chatting hastily with his brother closely. Briefly, Ornstein could catch a glimpse of annoyance in Gwynsen’s eyes, but it disappeared as soon as both, Ciaran and he, greeted the princess. Immediately, she cast them a kind smile, but her narrowed eyes seemed to go against that kindness.

“How good that you are finally here!” She exclaimed. “I was getting really bored and I desperately need some fun. You see, my Lord Father had started discussing with a noble friend of him and the conversation was a total pain to hear.” Princess Gwynevere let out a sigh, and for a brief second her eyes wandered between Gwynsen and Ornstein. “As my brother is also a bore, Sir Ornstein, would you be so kind to dance with me?”

Unconsciously, he held his breath, a bit startled for the question. 

As much as he wanted to please his princess, there was a really big part of him that was screaming that there was no way he could go again to that messy crown and display his poor dance abilities right after he has got out of there. Moreover, he couldn’t bear being observed by the prince again. 

But still, it was a direct request from her, right? 

Ornstein managed to choke down a growl of lament, but right before he agreed to do so, Gwynsen raised from his sit.

“Gwynevere, don’t you see he is tired? He’s been dancing all night.” There was a bit of tension under his tone, and everybody seemed to notice it. “If you are so eager to dance, I’ll do it with you.”

Prince Gwynevere hummed, looking down at him, her eyes casting him an amusement look, the same amusement that filled her voice. “As you wish, dear brother. I’m sorry if my request has bothered you, Sir Ornstein.”

“Of course not, my Lady,” he hurried himself to respond.

Gwynsen only looked briefly at Ornstein and Ciaran before walking away with his sister. 

Deep inside, Ornstein was grateful for being saved like that, but a little voice in the back of his mind was starting to tell him that Gwynsen had done that because he was feeling ashamed of having his first knight in such a poor display. 

Not more than a few steps apart from them, Gwynevere turned her face to his brother with a sardonic grin and spoke, probably resuming their last conversation. “As I told you, it was pretty easy.”

Ornstein lifted his eyebrows, a bit startled for how quick the situation was unfolded. And when he turned to face Ciaran, she was arching a questioning eyebrow at him, with a grin he wasn’t fond of. Instantly, he knew that some weird idea crossed her mind.

So, it was no doubt that when the party was over and they were on their way back to their rooms, Ciaran pointed the same questioning eyebrow up at him, with the ghost of the same smile playing on her lips.

“Whatever you are going to ask me, the answer is no,” he said, fearing of what she wanted to talk.

She humed, “Haven’t you noticed the prince acting a bit weird lately?”

“What do you mean?” Ornstein sighed.

“Well,” she started. “I’ve noticed the prince has been in a weird mood all this days. You know, he was in such a wistful mood back in the throne room, as if he was expecting someone to finally go to there...”

Ornstein furrowed at her teasing smile. “Listen Ciaran, it’s pretty late right now for your teasing.”

“What teasing?” She asked, before giggling. “I’m just saying! Just listen, and let me finish.” 

He puffed, but Ciaran paid no attention this time. “I was wondering who was the person he was so eager to see, and after everyone has given their presents, the list of candidates was surprisingly pretty short.” She paused for a second, taking the time to observe his face. “Considering the time he tends to spent with each one of them… I’m pretty sure Prince Gwynsen was expecting to see you.”

Ornstein was quick to open his mouth and argue that, “Well, that’s not weird at all, I’m his knight!”

“As everyone else.”

“You know what I mean.”

Ciaran shushed him. “Let me finish!” He grunted, and she smiled. “What’s more, out of nowhere, he started to worry about me and told me this dumb excuse that he wanted to be kinder with his knights, but believe me when I said that he is a worse liar than you or Artorias.”

Ornstein wrinkled his nose, and there was a pause in which Ciaran observed Ornstein closely.

“But that concern he had? It stopped today. Just like that. No questioning if am I doing well, if I’m tired, or whatever.” He just gave her a blank stare and Ciaran sighed. “You know, he also has been a bit tense around you. Well, mostly when I’m around. And it’s a bit weird that it also stopped today.”

“And?”

“Being wistfully awaiting for you? Stopping that weird behaviour right after we said we are not together?” She took another pause, looking at his eyes before talking a bit frustrated. “Not taking off your present even when the dining hall wasn’t cold? Not being able to take his eyes out of you during all the night? Oh, come on, Ornstein, I know you aren’t that slow. What’s not clicking on your head?! He even tries to be near you whenever you two are in the same room!”

Ornstein frowned a bit exasperated. “He has been tense around me because I’ve being the one who has been weird. And he was  _ wistful _ , or whatever you want to call it, because I was expected to do that! And… And he is just kind with me! We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s not so deep, Ciaran.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “What if there is more?”

“Don’t be absurd, Ciaran! This is not like one of those weird stories that you like.”

She giggled maliciously. “Huh, you seem informed about my tastes. What stories are they, Ornstein? Perhaps, are you talking about  _ Oath _ ?”

“I don’t know why I speak without thinking before…” He grunted.

They turned a corner, and at the sigh of Ornstein’s room, he felt completely grateful.

“At least, tell me that you have read it.”

“No,” he answered, almost too quickly, and cursed himself.

Ciaran examined him, grinning. “What a liar. How far have you gotten?”

“I’ve already told you, I haven’t read it!”

“Aw, come on, Ornstein, just tell me!”

A long sigh escaped through his lips, knowing he would regret his answer. “The first three chapters,” he mumbled, reaching his door and taking out his key. “But! I won’t read more.”

“Yeah, sure,” she snorted. “Just let me know when you finish it, I want to read it too...” Ornstein gave her a sideway look. “Now, I’ll leave you alone, good night, Ornstein! Oh, and, please, think about what I’ve told you.”

Once again, he let out a long exasperated sigh. “Whatever you want, Ciaran. Good night.”

Ornstein opened his door before giving her one last look while she walked away to her own room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember a few chapters ago when I said that there will be three more chapters? Well, I had a moment of divine inspiration and now I have a better idea to end the story than the first one I had planned. So... the story won't end with the next one and will have a few more chapters!
> 
> By the way, I'm also posting in tumblr so if you want to follow me, feel free! There, my name is taroris 😊
> 
> Hope you've liked the chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

The only sound in Ornstein’s room was the repeated tapping of his plume against his desk. He was skimming over the words of a report, with a small pile of documents already signed to his left and with another huger one of unsigned documents to his right, which has been awaiting for him since the start of the week.

He felt his eyes tired and, after yawning, he reclined himself on his chair, taking a look around his room. It wasn’t so long after he ate lunch, and mixed with the fact that the last night he didn’t sleep well, he was starting to feel heavy and his mind clouded. The premise of taking a quick nap was starting to take form in front of his eyes slowly. But no, he needed to focus, because in two hours he would had to start the afternoon training and another hour would go pass, and then, he would have little to no time to properly focus until dinner and another day would be thrown to the trash.

After recolocating himself in the chair, Ornstein let out a long tired sigh and started the document all over. But as he didn’t want to read reports nor official petitions, his mind decided to wander through his memories of the years where there was significantly less paper and more action. 

Ornstein let out another sigh. He actually liked the peaceful era they were living. That’s what they fighted for in the first place, right? But sometimes, a weird feeling emerged inside him. The same feeling he was having now, and the same feeling when he was ordered to remain in Anor Londo when others were designed to go on expeditions, to patrol the wild, to search the remains of dragons.

He needed to get those ideas out of his head, there was no point in them, always leaving a bitter feeling in his stomach and weird thoughts he didn’t feel right to unpack. The only thing that mattered was his current duties, whether they were in a training field or in a desk.

Ornstein tried to focus again, getting, this time, a considerable amount of signed documents. And when the cathedral’s bell rang, he raised from his chair, not minding organising his desk at all. He would had to resume this task after he is done with the training anyway.

Once he reached the field and looked at his knights, at the way they stiffened to greet him and the relaxed way they held their weapons, a feeling of nostalgia set inside him, a feeling that wouldn’t left him for a while and made him be a bit absent. His students noticed it, of course, but they didn’t comment anything, nor even between whispers, glad that they weren’t scolded about making dumb mistakes and only given regular correction comments at most. 

Then, after the training was ended, Ornstein returned to his room, barely acknowledging anyone who greeted him pass his way, and once the door was closed behind him, he let out a long sigh at the sight of the papers still on his desk.

Time to work. Time to read. Time to sign. But no time to be a knight.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but only a few documents were already checked when a sudden knock on his door stopped the course of his thoughts, making him raise his gaze.

“Who is it?” Came his voice, sounding a bit weird in his ears after the long silence.

“Um… It’s me, Ornstein.” Artorias’ voice came through the door and he arched an eyebrow, surprised.

“Come in.”

The door was opened slowly and Artorias stepped inside, carefully, still clothed in his armour and with his sword attached to his back. By the shadows casted onto the castle, product of the sunset, Ornstein guessed his friend had already finished his tasks for today.

His eyes, shadowed by his helmet and hoody, gazed at the piles of papers before they were fixed on Ornstein’s face. Immediately, he knew that something was going on, because Artorias never was so serious and tense.

“What’s the matter, my friend?” he asked, and Artorias averted his gaze. “You can leave your sword and take a sit, make yourself comfortable.”

Artorias muttered a thank you, doing what he was told and taking a sit in the lower edge of the bed. He removed his helmet, passing his hand through his black hair, a bit flat on some parts because all the hours being under it.

“I…” Artorias frowned. “Ornstein, I need to confess you something, but… I’m… I’m a bit ashamed.”

Ornstein, who had turned his chair to face him and quickly had forgotten about his job, felt the need to squeeze his shoulder despite the distance between them, as many other times he had done it when his friend was uncharacteristically insecure.

“You can tell me anything, Artorias, I’m never going to judge you.”

His deep blue eyes looked at him, pondering the situation, after a long deep sigh escaped through his lips. “Promise me you aren’t going to tell anyone. Especially… Especially not Ciaran.”

Ornstein used all of his willpower to hide his interest, picked by the mention of her. “Of course, I’m a sealed tomb.”

“I need you to swear it,” Artorias said, his eyes set intensely upon Ornstein’s.

He gulped, a bit taken aback, “Alright, I swear it, Artorias.”

“On what?”

Ornstein arched an eyebrow. “On my honor.”

“And?”

Now, he lifted both of his eyebrows. “And on Lord Gwyn.”

“And?” Artorias pressed.

At last, Ornstein frowned. “And on Lord Gwynsen. Artorias, what is the matter? What is so important?” He let out a breathless laugh, starting to feel a bit worried, and Artorias let out a long sight again, passing a hand over his face and rubbing his eyes. “It’s about what has happened to you?”

The wolf knight nodded a bit shy, “I… don’t know how to start.”

Ornstein hummed, resting his check on his palm and his elbow on his knee. “I don’t want to pressure you, but maybe the easiest part is about why you started to avoid me. After all, the problem was only between you and Ciaran, right?”

There was a long pause, in which Artorias scratched his nose and looked everywhere else besides Ornstein, but then, when his voice came out, it was filled with determination. “I was jealous of you.”

Ornstein moved his head a bit forward, startled and unsure of what he had heard. “What? Why?”

“Because you were with Ciaran… Well, I mean, while everyone thought you two were together.”

He knitted his eyebrows together, eyes opened in shock. “Wait… That means…”

“Yeah…” 

Artorias let out a shy chuckle, his corporal language screaming he was feeling really uncomfortable making that confession. But, Ornstein, on the other hand, needed a few seconds to process it, with his mouth hanged slightly open and blinking like an idiot. After that, he needed to use all of his willpower to not scream like some excited teenager.

“Ah… Say something, please, your silence is killing me,” Artorias whimper, with his face contorted in a weird grimace.

Ornstein snapped back to reality, clearing his throat, “I’m- I’m sorry, man. This just took me by surprise.”

Artorias passed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I can get it.”

“If you are in love with Ciaran, why did you were avoiding her?” Ornstein asked, but, a second after, his expression falled in awe. “Wait, don’t tell me you were trying to forget her.”

The wolf knight nodded slowly, almost as if he was frightened by Ornstein’s reaction. And he should be, because his friend was trying really hard not to bump him on the head.

“Artorias, why?” Ornstein continued. “You’ve only done that with your… failed affairs, but, with Ciaran, you haven’t tried anything.” A sudden gloomy aura surrounded Artorias, his eyes fixed on the floor, and Ornstein felt the urge to move by his side. Then, he spoke with a soft tone. “What’s the problem?”

“You already know the problem. We can’t be together because of our ranks.” Artorias sighed, “We have a duty, she is the captain of the Blades, and I have my own unit to lead, less to say that we are part of the Knights of Gwyn! What example will we be giving to the Silver Knights?”

“Eh? What nonsense are you talking about?” Ornstein said, knitting his eyebrows in confusion. “You know that there are many Silver Knights who are in a relationship, even some are married. No one is going to put their hands on their heads for that.”

“But we aren’t Silver Knights! We must be the image of knighthood! And as knights we only have one purpose, to protect our land, and no time for side romances...”

Ornstein sighed while scratching his eyes, a deep part of him not believing his friend was talking seriously. But Artorias has always been extremely idealistic, the type to believe there was only one type of good in the world.

“You are only the image of foolishness. Artorias, no one is going to give a damn if you have a partner or not as long as you do your work.”

He blinked back at Ornstein. “Then, why haven’t you been in any relationship since you’ve sworn to Lord Gwyn?”

Ornstein’s eye twitched. He didn’t want to address his lack of ability to establish new relationships and his bad poor choices of men to fall in love with.

“I… I just don’t have time, obviously,” he muttered between teeth. “Not because I have a dutty with our Lords.”

Artorias hummed, fiddling with his fingers. “Even if that’s not a problem… I still don’t have a chance with her.”

Ornstein had to die a snort. The whole situation was a bit surreal. He couldn’t believe that literally two days ago Ciaran was telling him the exact same thing, and, now, at a lost for words, he tried to come up with something appropriate that didn’t reveal too much.

“I mean,” Artorias continued, ignoring that Ornstein was about to say something. “I’ve spent all this time believing that she loves you and thinking how different I am from you, and... There is no way I’m her type. I’m not as handsome and cool as you…”

“Artorias, that’s not true,” he said, looking at his gloomy eyes with a frown and a mixture of discomfort and pity. He could understand his friend, after all, he always has been the first one to compare himself with others, but for Artorias, it was out character, he had never done that before. Ornstein hated seeing him liked that, so he hoped Ciaran could forgive him for his next words. “You are really handsome, and the coolest man I’ve ever known, and I’m… I’m pretty sure if Ciaran was going to fall in love with one of us, it would be with you.”

The wolf knight turned his face towards him, with a pout forming on his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Totally. I know I’m not his type.” There was a pause, in which Artorias seemed to be considering something, but Ornstein parted his lips in a little smile. “Besides, where did all your confidence go, my friend?”

Artorias let out a long sigh, moving himself to rest his head on Ornstein’s shoulder. “I don’t know, man… Everytime I think about her it just flies away… She is out of my league but I just can’t stop thinking about her. Ciaran is so beautiful and smart… and I’m just… me.”

Ornstein chuckled softly, passing his arm around his shoulders.

“Like,” Artorias continued, “it doesn’t matter if I’m just on a mission or in my room, she is always in my head, and I can’t focus on other things! That’s why I tried to put a distance between us, I guess. But it didn’t work, if anything, it has done the opposite effect!” He groaned. Then, Artorias stirred, raising his head to gaze at Ornstein. “Please, I need your help. I need to get her out of my mind and I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do much to help you, but,” Artorias lifted his eyebrows, “if you are willing to hear my advise…”

“Of course, please, tell me.”

“You should, at least, give it a try. I don’t know, ask her on a date or something, before forgetting her for good.”

Artorias snorted. “You said it as is so easy.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? A rejection?”

“Well, yeah! Maybe? How about the end of our friendship?!” Artorias groaned.

Ornstein rolled his eyes. “That won’t happen, and the last problem between you two is proof enough. If Ciaran could forgive you for being an idiot, she would forget that you have feelings for her. Anyway, why are you so scared? You’ve been near death and shown more courage!”

“Because she is scary!”

It was Ornstein’s turn to snort. “She is not! Listen, if you don’t want to do it, that’s on you, but you’ll never know if she loves you back. I mean, you two have always been so close, it could be a possibility… A really big one.”

There was a moment of silent in which he gave him a sideway look, watching Artorias fidgeting besides him.

“I don’t know, man…” Artorias sighed, rubbing his forehead, “I… need to think about it.”

Ornstein patted his back, giving him a reassuring smile. “That’s fine, take your time, but just don’t be afraid of her, alright? Before all, she will always be your friend.”

He nodded and smiled back. “Thanks for listening to me.”

“No problem, Artorias, anytime,” he said fondly. “And if she rejects you, I’ll have your permit ready so you can get lost on the woods or something.”

The wolf knight chuckled, “I’ll only accept it if you go with me. Like old times.”

“Yes, sure,” Ornstein returned the laugh.

Not much later, the bell rang loudly and both of them exchanged a look. The time for dinner was near, so, Artorias raised from the bed and offered Ornstein to go with him, a proposition he obviously accepted.

After knowing what was going on in both sides, it was really fun to watch Ciaran and Artorias interact, but watching the pile of documents still awaiting for him on his desk after returning from dinner, felt like a punch on his stomach. 

But Ornstein had no other choice but to finish them that night. So, after taking off his armour and putting himself in more comfortable clothes he forced himself to remain awake after he was done with his work once and for all.

Even though that was the original plan, he found out that it was a bit hard to concentrate on the document in front of him. The conversation with Artorias didn’t stopped to repeat on his mind over and over again, making a smile to appear on his face. He couldn’t believe they were in love with each other all this time. It was like a cruel joke and if only Artorias wasn’t so bad on making choices and fond of that perfect knighthood idea, they could have been together for a very long time. 

Instead, he was in between, without the possibility to speak the truth. And he hated it! And he also wanted to throw Artorias inside Ciaran’s room and lock them after they’ve confessed to each other. But much to his annoyance, he couldn’t. And he had to wait to see how things turned out.

When someone knocked on his door, Ornstein was sure it was past midnight. He raised from his chair with a yawn and opened the door, revealing the small figure of Ciaran, who locked up at him, with her arms folded.

“Ciaran? Something happened?”

“Ah… I couldn’t sleep and I was taking a walk to clear my mind and, going back to my room, I noticed the light under your door and… Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” He stepped aside, closing the door behind her once she was inside. “You can stay here as much as you like, but I need to finish some paperwork, do you mind it?”

She shook her head, watching him return to his sit.

“Do you feel like talking about what’s on your mind?”

“Not right now,” she answered, stepping behind him and looking over his shoulder. “It’s really late. But maybe tomorrow.”

“As you wish. I don’t mind to talk about it now, you know,” he said, giving her a quick glance, but Ciaran just hummed and bent forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin on one of them. 

Something caught Ornstein’s eyes and, carefully, he grabbed one of her arms, lifted the sleeve and revealed a big black bruise covering almost all of it.

“By the Gods, what happened?”

“I’m fine, I just tripped on a mission,” Ciaran sighed, freeing his arm of his grab and pulling down the sleeve. “The city can be distracting sometimes.”

“For you?” Ornstein asked, voice filled with disbelief, returning his eyes to the report and signing it.

“Yes.” A brief silence appeared between them, only interrupted by the fidget of papers. “Wherever I go, I can’t stop seeing happy couples and families,” she continued. “It’s really annoying, but deep down… Deep down I envy them, and I can’t stop myself from thinking how great it would be if Artorias and me were they. Then… A roof is slightly higher that other and... I come back here with new bruises.”

Ciaran let out an exasperated sigh, burying her face in the fabric of Ornstein’s tunic.

“That is what couldn’t let you sleep?”

“Pretty much… I wish I could forget him. Everything would be so easier…”

Ornstein raised an eyebrow though she couldn’t see that, an idea appearing on his mind. “Things have been pretty well between you two lately, right?”

Ciaran raised her head, going back to her first position. “Yes, why?”

“Why don’t you ask him on a date?” He asked, and Ciaran snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ornstein. I don’t want to turn things weird again.”

He rolled his eyes. They were perfect for each other.

“Artorias has always been pretty laid-back with that matter. He’d never made things awkward after rejecting someone.”

“Why are you telling me to ask him on a date and a second later that he will reject me?”

Ornstein clicked his tongue. “I’m not telling you that Artorias will reject you! Just that in the worst case, things won’t turn out as bad as you thing.”

Ciaran stiffened herself, and Ornstein felt her hands untying his hair and combing it with her fingers. Immediately, he let out a yawn.

“You should consider trying it,” he said, rubbing one of his eyes. “By the way, my miracles are pretty mediocre but do you want me to cast one on that bruise? It looked pretty bad.”

“I’m fine, but thank you.” Ciaran answered before kissing the top of his head, making him smile. “And… I’ll think about it. Maybe. But, now, I just want to keep my mind in other things. Do you want me to help you in anything?”

“Now, that you say it… You could start to divide this pile, if it not much of a bother,” he answered, tapping the signed documents.

“Of course.” She walked by his side, taking the report on top of it and skimming it.

“Thank you, you are my saviour,” Ornstein said, smiling at her, and Ciaran returned the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: taroris


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouf I'm sorry this is the longest chapter I've ever written! I didn't know when I should stop writing because at the same time I didn't want to rush things out, and now... huh. Hope you all don't mind that there are almost 5k words ahead

Thanks to Ciaran’s help the night before, Ornstein could finish signing all the documents once and for all. So, the next day, he headed to the castle’s archives to store the reports that didn’t need any further attention, which, actually, were pretty much all of them. 

As much as he hated sitting in a chair with a pen in his hand, he hated to do archivist functions. It was not his place, and everything would be much easier if one of the Duke Archives’ assistance worked there. But no, that pale and blind dragon had to be rather selfish with his domains.

The task was really boring, and because of the time standing with his neck looking up, and his arms reaching up to place the scrolls on their corresponding shell, his lower back was starting to hurt really bad. After a while, between the many comes and goes to the shelves and desk, he was holding the last couple of documents when a servant opened the door. Her face lighted up with recognition and she approached Ornstein, vowing in front of him.

“Sir Ornstein, Lord Gwyn has required your presence at the tactical room.” The maiden spoke with her head still lowered. “The Lord said he needs you immediately.”

Ornstein regarded her with a quick look, one of his eyebrows raised in a questioning demeanor. He wondered what could have happened.

“Thank you for giving me the message. I’ll be right there in a moment.”

She nodded and turned around.

“Oh! If you are so kind, when the next bell ring, could you inform my knights at the training field that I’m going to be late? Tell them that I ordered for them to spare in my absence.”

“Of course, Sir Ornstein. As you desire.”

“Thank you so much,” he said, a little smile on his lips showing gratitude.

She nodded once again, before leaving the room as quietly as she arrived. Then, Ornstein hurried up, placing the last scrolls on their shelves and left it as well. 

The tactical room wasn’t so far actually. He reached it after taking a few turns through the corridors, and knocked the door, politely awaiting for his Lord to allow him to enter.

He didn’t know what he was expecting but seeing that every captain were already there came as a surprise. Ornstein vowed to his Lords in greeting and walked to take his usual seat besides Gwynsen. It took him awhile to notice that the knight he designated to be the leader of the unit ordered to search the dragon nest, the one Artorias failed to find, was also there.

Lord Gwyn requested him to inform about the outcome of their expedition. And for everyone’s sake, there were more good news than bad ones. They found the nest, but there were more dragons than expected, though still very small. Their two parents were also guarding the nest, something weird given they don’t match for too long and the low number of their kind. Upon saying the place was one of easy access, with a lot of place for the knights to hide, Lord’s Gwyn face relaxed. The main problem was that the place was well hidden in a mountain, but even Ornstein knew that they could work fine with those conditions.

When the knight ended his speech, there was a long pause in which he looked around, the silence’s weight making him sink on his chair. But when Lord Gwyn spoke, his voice was smooth, contemplative, and almost everybody was eager to come up with a good plan for him.

Ornstein decided to remain silent though, after all, he didn’t have rested well and his mind wasn’t clear to think properly. Around him there was a lot of chatter and planning, but he noticed the prince was weirdly quiet. It felt unsettling, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him. 

When Lord Gwyn called his name for him to give his opinion, he just decided to agree with the plan to bring the archers and separate the parents. It was the most reasonable. After everything was discussed at last, Lord Gwyn announced that the next unit would depart in a couple of days. And because they couldn’t afford the risk of letting the litter to grow anymore, it would be leaded by Gwynsen. That meant Ornstein would be going with him.

Ornstein felt weird, but he pushed that feeling to the back of his mind and let the excitement get a hold of him. When was the last time he fought a dragon? Ornstein felt the urge to hide his hands under the table, clenching and unclenching them in excitement.

Two days suddenly felt like an unbearable long time.

Their unit creation was easier this time. Gough would bring his archers and Ornstein his dragon slayers, along the knight that reported the outcome of the search mission to guide them. And when everything was sorted and the plan consistent enough, the reunion ended and everyone was dismissed.

But just when Ornstein was about to turn the corridor corner, someone grabbed him by his arm. He turned and met the prince, who immediately released him, taking a step back.

“My Lord.” Ornstein simply regarded him, trying to ease the tickle in his stomach with his words.

“Ornstein, I-” Gwynsen frowned, visibly at a lost of words. 

Ornstein, too, frowned under his helmet, slightly confused by his Lord reaction. “Is there anything I can help you with, your Highness?”

“Yes. Well, I mean, kind of. I need to speak with you,” he answered after letting out the breath he was holding. “But it must be in private.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Ornstein said, nodding. “But I’m afraid my students are awaiting for me right now. The training has been delayed.”

“Right!” Gwynsen raised his eyebrows. “In that case, go and train them first. Once you are done, come to the armory, I’ll be there doing some preparations for the… mission.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted Ornstein, his eyes looking down at him with a hint of culpability. “I know you don’t like waiting for such things. I must have remembered that the training wasn’t done yet.”

Ornstein observed him for a solid second before deciding to continue with what he was going to say. “But if it’s important and quick, there would be no problem for them to wait a little longer.”

The prince let out a soft chuckle, “Go and train them first, our conversation can wait.”

Once again, Ornstein frowned under his helmet, but the hand the prince put on his shoulder ended up convincing him. He couldn’t help but obey after all.

“I’ll… take my leave then, if that is your wish, my Lord.”

“Have a good training, Ornstein,” he wished with close-lip smile. The knight just vowed politely with his head before heading to the training field.

Gwynsen was right, he didn’t like waiting to have their conversation and not knowing what the other was going to tell him made him feel deeply uncomfortable, nervous. His mind busy trying to figure out which one of the possible topics would be about. 

Has he been doing his work wrong? Has he behaved inappropriately around the God? What if Prince Gwynsen didn’t want him on the mission? Was he starting to appear worthless to his eyes?

His concern, soon, turned into lack of attention. And his lack of attention was showed in front of his knight. Their training turned into another day when they didn’t hear their captain give orders and corrections. 

So, when one of the Silver Knights approached him, he jumped slightly. “Excuse me, Captain.”

Ornstein gazed down at the knight, who was resting the end of his spear on the dusty floor. He avoided telling him off for getting his weapon dirty without a good reason and, immediately, he recognized him as one of his most talkatives students.

“What’s the matter, Sir Harold?”

“Well, Captain, you see, the other knights and I have noticed that you has been slightly distant these two days,” he said, his blue eyes shadowed not only by his visor but with a concern Ornstein was not used to feel from his students.

His brows knitted, feeling his cheeks starting to light up when he looked around and saw that all of his students have stopped his practice. He thanked he was wearing his helmet.

“We are starting to get a bit concerned about your well-being, Captain,” Harold continued. “If you need rest, we could practice by ourselves until the bell tolls.”

Once again, Ornstein casted a look around them. He really needed to learn to put his thoughts aside while he is working.

“I appreciate everybody’s concern.” Ornstein said at last, only focussing on Sir Harold to not let the excessive amount of eyes make him feel more nervous. “I’m sorry I made you all worry about me, but I’m fine. Really. Let’s resume the practice, I’ll be more attentive from now on.”

The Silver Knight nodded, “As you wish, Captain.”

He returned to his practice mate, and everybody was back again on an attack or a defensive stance. This time, Ornstein forced himself to walk between the pairs, in hopes to get his mind focused on them. Still, even from time to time, the same questions popped on his mind, but he tried really hard not to space out.

Once the training was finally done, Ornstein felt he was practically running to the armory. There, servants and knights were walking from one side to the other, gathering weapons and gadgets they would need on their mission. 

Ornstein’s eyes laid immediately on Prince Gwynsen, who was standing in the middle of the room, talking with a Silver Knight and pointing to one side of the room.

When he was at his side, Gwynsen smiled at him. 

“Ah, Ornstein! Give me just a second and I’ll be with you,” he informed, turning back to the Silver Knight and resuming their conversation.

After a while, the knight nodded and walked to the place the prince had signaled. But when Gwynsen faced Ornstein, this time a maiden approached him. While he was listening to what she had to tell, Ornstein needed to move a couple of times to let the knights, with hands full of spears or arrows, pass. At last, he ended up fully pressed against the wall, feeling like an obstacle.

To his relieve, their conversation didn’t last too much. Gwynsen gestured Ornstein to follow him, and the knight pushed himself off the wall and left the room behind him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Gwynsen spoke, giving Ornstein a sideway look.

“There is no need for apologies, my Lord,” he was quick to answer. “May I ask where are we going?”

“Actually… I have no idea,” he breathed out. “But somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”

Ornstein felt his stomach shrinking, full of nervousness. “Maybe we could go to the old training field. Artorias is the only one who uses it. And he is in a patrol right now.”

Gwynsen hummed thoughtfully but, at the end, he agreed and both of them headed to the place. Once there, the prince told the two Silver Knights guarding the area to patrol another place and when they were alone, he dropped himself in the stair, patting his side for Ornstein to sit there.

Ornstein sat down, and for a while, none of them spoke a single word. There was a soft chilled breeze and the sun was starting to lower down. He watched the trees of the Royal Garden in the distant, in hope to ease his nervousness, and when his eyes were following a bird flying off, Gwynsen’s voice, a bit shaky, boomed on his side.

“Ornstein, what do you think about this new mission?”

He turned his head. The prince’s facial expression was solemn, and he felt the need to clear his throat before speaking.

“I’m quite excited about it. I don’t remember when was the last time… I was sent out.”

Gwynsen hummed. “I see... But don’t you feel that there is something wrong with all of this?”

“With... all of this, my Lord?”

The prince turned his face to him, a furrow starting to form on his face. “Yes, I mean, the mission, the persistence of my father with this nest… I don’t know, I feel that there is something awful in it.”

“Your Lord Father is only concerned about the wellbeing of the region.” Ornstein said almost quietly, burying the urge to lay a hand on his back. “We are just doing what has to be done to preserve it.”

“But is it truly the best?”

Ornstein felt silent before his tone of voice. He didn’t know why he couldn’t find the will to answer his question. A moment passed between them, Gwynsen’s eyes searching for his own under the visor, then they wandered his lion face. At last, the prince let out a sigh, hiding half of his face under the scarf.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about this things when my mind isn’t clear.”

Ornstein felt the need to say, “If it helps to clear your mind, my Lord, you can always talk with me, no matter about what.”

He noticed that Gwynsen’s eyes wrinkled, signaling that he was smiling. That sight only was enough to make Ornstein feel a tickle in his stomach.

“My Lord, was that why you wanted to speak with me privately?”

Gwynsen gave him a contemplative look. Then, Ornstein noticed he interlaced his hands in a way that was far from relaxed.

“No,” he sighed. “Can you take your helmet, please? I would like to speak looking at your face.”

He obeyed by removing his helmet slowly. For a moment, Gwynsen seemed to be watching his face closely. Ornstein couldn’t help to get nervous, and neither the sudden silent nor being at a lost of words was helping at all. Once again, the forest seemed pretty interesting to him.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the prince grabbing a small rock and tossing it to the next step. Why was the atmosphere between them so tense all of a sudden?

Another sight later. Gwynsen turned his face towards him, his lips pressed firmly in a thin line. 

“Ornstein, there is something I need to tell you. I…” He fell shut suddenly, making the knot in Ornstein’s stomach grow bigger. 

The knight lifted his eyebrows unconsciously, and before the gesture, Gwynsen shifted in his place, pointing his knees towards Ornstein. Both of them were tense.

“Have I… Have I made something to disappoint you, your Highness?”

Gwynsen let out a surprised noise, too brief for Ornstein to process it, before he was shaking his head. “Oh, no, no, no! You haven’t done anything wrong.” At the clear unwound of Ornstein’s shoulders, he titled his head, looking at his knight with eyes full of culpability. 

“You’ve been thinking the worst all this afternoon, right?” He continued, passing a hand over his face, “I’m really sorry, I should have known you still had to train. I didn’t want to mess with your head at all.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, my Lord,” Ornstein answered, noticing the hard line on his shoulders.

“I…” The prince let out a long sigh, fixing his eyes on Ornstein. “I can’t help but do it.”

Ornstein’s hands twitched, grabbing his helmet with the urge to put it back on his head. He was starting to feel hot. Was it because the way Gwynsen was looking at him or the way he spoke those words? His eyes were observing him closely and with an emotion, though hard to place, was very intense. And his voice was low, almost as a whisper, but his words vibrated with warmth inside him, like every time he speaks to him. 

Ornstein couldn’t tell.

It seemed like Gwynsen noticed the change in Ornstein’s postures and his eyes trailed down to his hands.

“I think I should say it bluntly…” He muttered, before meeting Ornstein’s green eyes. “Do you still remember something about the day you came back to the castle with Ciaran, both drunk?”

Ornstein’s eyebrows knitted in a worried expression. “I remember some of the things that happened… Did I do something inappropriate around you, my Lord?

His cheeks were starting to get red with early embarrassment. After all those weeks, thankfully his mind was starting to completely forget that indecorous night, or rather what he still could remember when he woke up the next day. But if Prince Gwynsen was bringing it in that moment… Ornstein braced himself, if he must die from embarrassment at least he would do it as a man, facing what he has done wrong, apologizing to his Lord and accepting whatever punishment he would throw at him.

But the bitter chuckle he heard startled him.

“No, in fact, I did something wrong. I kissed you while you were drunk.”

Ornstein blinked one, twice. The dream he thought he had the next morning came to his mind. He gasped. His face turned red, a full display of emotions crossed it from shock to fear to embarrassment. He wanted to run, but his legs felt like weak sticks and he didn’t find the strength to put himself up. 

“I’m really sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t find the strength. First, I didn’t want to ruin your relationship with Ciaran because a misunderstanding that was my fault. Then, I was scared that you would end up… hating me,” Gwynsen said, almost muttering the last words, and averting his eyes. His body wasn’t facing Ornstein anymore.

For a moment that wasn’t longer than a few seconds but it felt like an eternity, a heavy silence settled between them.

“I…” Ornstein tried to say, but closed his mouth right away. His mind was completely blank.

Then, his eyes caught a glimpse of Gwynsen’s hands. They were shaking and he was trying to hide it by grabbing to his knees hardly.

“Fuck.” Gwynsen groaned low, breaking the silence unceremoniously. “Even if you didn’t remember it, I couldn’t stop to feel guilty, no matter what I tried to do to feel like nothing happened. Knowing that I was the only one who knew what happened that night was too much.” He paused, passing a hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t fair for you. But now, you know it, and I’m really sorry, honestly.”

“I…” Ornstein tried again, nervously. His voice came out strangled so he cleared his throat. “I remember it… But I thought all this time that it was a dream.”

“A dream?” Gwynsen turned to him, completely startled, and Ornstein felt the need to move far from him.

“Yes… I mean, it was something so improbable to happen for real that I didn’t give it a second thought.”

“Why would you…?”

“I don’t know!” Ornstein interrupted him, shrugging. He knew his face was a deep color of red.

Gwynsen humed, and moved his eyes to the helmet. Ornstein also gazed at it.

“Are you mad at me?” The way he asked it, carefully, without confidence, made Ornstein feel weird. It felt really vulnerable.

“No. I mean, maybe I should. But I just… It was just a kiss, and I don’t feel like it’s something to get mad after all.”

“Are you sure? What I did… You were drunk.”

“I know. But…” Ornstein pressed his lips hard.  _ I wanted to do it. _ “You were only enduring with my… state. No big deal, really. I should apologize too.”

“You are always too nice with me.” Gwynsen let out a long breath, the corners of his mouth slightly turning upwards. “I’m very lucky to have you.”

Ornstein’s heart jumped, and he couldn’t help the little smile showing on his face. For a moment there was another silence, but this time less tense and awkward. 

The sun was already at the same level of the treetops and Ornstein watched how the light reflected on Gwynsen’s face. When their eyes met, both of them averted them, and Ornstein cleared his throat. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind and Ornstein felt his chest shrink with doubt. He fidgeted on his seat and one of his hands started to fiddle with the plume of his helmet. When he turned his face to Gwynsen, he was already looking at him and both of them started to talk at the same time.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gwynsen said.

“No, no, my Lord, I’m the one who is sorry, please, you first.”

“No, please, Ornstein, you first. I want to know what are you going to say.”

“All right.” Ornstein almost whispered, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hesitate now. “My Lord, may I ask... Why did you returned the kiss that night?”

Gwynsen didn’t answer right away. He took his time, looking up and down the knight’s face. Once again, he was trying to hide the fact his hands were shaking.

“I felt like it was the only opportunity I would ever have.” He spoke each word ever so slowly, as if he was afraid of the other’s reaction. His eyes were glowing with determination.

“What?” Ornstein gasped.

“Ornstein,” Gwynsen called, his voice a bit strangled. “Since that day the memory of our kiss had been stuck in my head. I’ve dreamed of kissing you, to hold and touch you again. I’ve been longing it ever since, because I-” His voice trembled at last and he felt shut. There was no need to finish the phrase. The message was clear.

Gwynsen reached Ornstein's hand, slightly trembling and carefully wrapping his own around it. Ornstein wished he didn’t have his gauntlet on. And he wished to have more layers of metal between them. He forgot to breath, the situation was too much for him to process. It mustn't be real. It mustn’t be.

“What I wanted to say before, what I wanted to ask was also about the reason of why you kissed me. Was it simply because some confusion or… was it because something more?”

Ornstein felt his throat dry. He didn’t find the will to answer. Gwynsen was his Lord after all. It was inappropriate. His feelings, no. Their feelings were inappropriate. But still, as much as he didn’t believe it, he was loved back. He had heard the very thing he yearned to listen from him. 

And the look on his face when there was no answer after a while hurted him deeply. So, he moved his other hand and pressed it on top of Gwynsen’s, stopping him from turning away, body already tense and ready to leave.

Gwynsen watched him with eyes already somber, his shoulders fallen.

“It was something more.” He spoke with a tiny voice, afraid to speak the truth, but they were loud enough for Gwynsen to hear. The prince’s eyes were fixed on Ornstein’s eyes, looking him with such intensity it was making the knight feel small.

In the distant, a bird shrieked and, unconsciously, Ornstein withdrew his hands. His heart was beating fast in his chest.

“Do you…?” Gwynsen felt shut after Ornstein moved his eyes up the stairs.

There was no one there, but he felt the need to check. After all, Ornstein was feeling nervous, and by the look Gwynsen gave him, he knew that if he wasn’t as nervous as him, at least he understood his reasons.

“I do.” Ornstein found himself saying, without thinking. His face was read and he couldn’t breathe properly. “And you?”

Gwynsen nodded quickly, a tiny smile was slowly making his way through his lips. Not much longer, Ornstein was giving him the same smile. He couldn’t get out of his head the idea that what was happening wasn’t real, because reality was crueler and harder than this...

“Now… What?”

“I have no clue,” Ornstein said plainly. “This is… We shouldn’t.”

“I know.” Gwynsen furrowed, but despite the glimpse of sadness in his eyes, there was also great determination. Once again his hand was on top of his, no longer trembling but firmly grabbing it. Ornstein wished he didn’t have to wear his gauntlet. “But maybe… Maybe we should give it a try.”

At this point, both of them were talking very quietly. Only for them to be able to hear.

“I don’t know...”

“Do you want to do it?”

This was really wrong. And Ornstein nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Still…”

Gwynsen hummed. “Still.” Then, he smiled. “You are alway so honorable. I always liked that about you. But for this time, won’t you let those values behind and just... Be with me?”

“You are my Lord. I can’t just be with you.”

“Let’s keep it as a secret, then. And I can still be your Lord, and you my knight. But when we are together, alone…” Ornstein’s jaw clenched at the idea. “It would be hard, but if you want it as much as I want it…”

Gwynsen’s fingers touched his cheek. The gesture was momentary, interrupted because he remembered Ornstein’s fear of being caught. But it had been so warm… Ornstein wanted to feel it again.

“If this gets out of hand…” His heart was pounding loudly in his ears.

“Then nothing had happened between us.” Gwynsen continued for him. “Ornstein, I’m the last one who wants for you to lose what you’ve achieved.”

He observed him in silence, and a second later he nodded slowly. “Then, I suppose that we…”

Ornstein didn’t find the courage to say it out aloud, but both of them understood it. Gwynsen smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and made Ornstein’s heart melt. His eyes, then, trailed down to his lips, and Ornstein found the way he was looking at them familiar.

“I want to kiss you so fucking bad.” Gwynsen whispered, his cheeks were starting to have a faint color of red.

But when he was getting closer, Ornstein started to panic and moved his head backwards. His eyes were full open, observing the prince closely.

“Right…” Gwynsen stiffened, biting his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“This is… too much right now.” Ornstein said, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I get it. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Then, Ornstein gazed at him again, calmer, and was met with a smile full of fondness. Gwynsen raised his hand, brushing his fingers against his check once more, and when he was lowering it, Ornstein felt the sudden need to grab it. His movements were careful, though, and he bringed his lips to his knuckles, leaving a faint kiss. His eyes met, the gesture had spoken great words between them

The cathedral bell rang when the sun finally set. And the loud noise made Ornstein jump in his seat, abruptly releasing the hand and dying a gasp in his throat. Gwynsen let out a chuckle, shaking his head and looking fondly at his knight. Ornstein couldn’t help but join him with another chuckle, embarrassed.

“We should get going, my faithful knight.” The Prince spoke, with a playful undertone.

He raised and stretched. Ornstein followed every movement with his eyes, standing up as well.

“As you wish, my Lord,” he said with the same tone.

“Say, Ornstein, who would have thought that fiction can turn into reality?”

“What are you talking about, my…”

Ornstein fell shut when realization hit him, and Gwynsen laughed mischievously at his red face.

“I never really pictured you as the type of man who read that kind of novel, Ornstein.”

“I am not!” He said, promptly putting his helmet on. With the security his helmet gave him, Ornstein adventured to ask, in desperate attempt to make him as embarrassed as he was. “And how do you know what the story is about, my Lord?”

“Oh, you know. Actually, is one of my favourites my book,” he chuckled.

Ornstein watched him walk up the stair, his expression fell off in shock and all the air out of his lungs. The prince must be kidding. But when Ornstein reached him with quick steps, Gwynsen didn’t wanted to talk further while they were inside the corridor.

“Maybe,” he said, between mischievous laughs. “We could talk about it later. As long as you want. I can even tell you which is my favourite part.”

Ornstein groaned. It was better to let the matter die. He couldn’t win Gwynsen’s lack of decorum and he would only end up in a very bad position.

Later, when they reached the dinner hall, it was time to put their masks on back again, as if nothing had happened in those stairs. Ornstein found it pretty easy to do it. He bowed, as he always did it, to bid farewell to his Lord and to greet the royal family. 

If he didn’t think about their conversation, the way Gwynsen looked at him and how his faint touches felt, there would be no problem, he could walk as confident as he always.

Nothing had happened. Just a normal meeting between them.

When he sat down in their table and took off his helmet, greeting his friends, Ciaran pointed an arched eyebrow at him, with the ghost of a smile in her lips. He sighed and cursed under his breath, she already knew that something was going on.

“You were right,” Ornstein simply said.

Ciaran gasped, a full smile on her lips. Gough and Artorias both exchanged confused looks.

“Right about what?” Artorias asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @taroris


	14. Chapter 14

Ciaran looked down at the paper she was holding and bit her lip, reading it once again. It was a permit, signed by Ornstein, allowing her to have just one day on leave. She had found it on her desk when she returned from her night shift. Probably a maiden had left it on there. 

And seeing it has made all of her tiredness snap out of her body, even after all the hours spent outside. It made her recall Artorias knocking on her door few nights ago. Probably it had been almost midnight. Once she opened the door, she knew immediately that every part of him was consumed by his own nervousness. Artorias seemed like a fish out of the water inside her room. Everything looked so small besides him and he just ended up standing awkwardly besides her desk despite Ciaran’s insistence to take a seat.

Then, his proposal took her aback. A date. He asked her for a date. With his face red and a tiny voice, fidgeting with his hands in front of his belly. He even apologized again for his past behaviour, mumbling about how fool of him to think he could only focus on his duties. Ciaran noticed his hands were shaking. She understood why he did that. She thought he was very naive. And she accepted.

The next thing she recalled was the annoying grin on Ornstein’s face when she told him about her date. She knew that he was hiding something, Ornstein always blinks and looks away before lying, so when she asked if he knew something about Artorias’ feelings, Ciaran caught him immediately. To think he was inciting both of them to confess at the same time… Ciaran smacked him on the head. 

After scratching his head, Ornstein asked her when they would go out, and Ciaran told him whenever their free day happened to coincide, but for now they would have to wait. Ornstein just patted Ciaran on her back.

It was clear that Artorias was also given another permit and the next day they would have to talk about what they were going to do. 

A date with Artorias…

Ciaran smiled, she couldn’t believe it. She was really nervous. And tired, utterly tired. But above all, nervous. Every fiber of her was nervous. She wanted to scream from happiness. And Ciaran doubted she would be able to fall asleep at all. 

What would happen tomorrow? What would Artorias want to do?

Ciaran folded the paper, putting it on her nightstand, and raised from her bed to take off his armour and put on more comfortable clothes. On her bed, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning around for a while, maybe for more than an hour. But after all, all the hours jumping between roofs and hiding in street corners had an effect on her, and the next thing she heard was a knock on her door the next morning.

“Who is it?” She called with a raspy voice, rubbing at her eye.

“It’s me, Artorias. Um… If you are busy, I can come later...”

Ciaran blinked, unconsciously holding her breath. “Just give me a second!”

After changing her clothes, brushing her hair and opening her window in a record time, Ciaran finally was face to face with him, who quickly showed her his own permit.

“I’m free today,” Artorias said, while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Then, when he noticed that, he lifted his eyebrows in concern. “Right, last night you were out! I’m really sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Ciaran answered, shaking her head. “I’m free too, by the way.”

“Really, today?!” Artorias exclaimed with a big smile. Ciaran couldn’t hide her own after seeing his excitement, a warmth feeling spreading inside her. She loved his smile. “What do you want to do?”

“Why don’t you surprise me?”

Artorias hummed, briefly looking above her head thoughtfully. “All right! I know what we can do, meet me at the entry when you get ready after lunch! Oh, and bring a coat!”

In fact, Artorias didn’t surprise her at all. Just by the look on his face when he came out with the idea, Ciaran knew well where they were going to go. And when she was following him to the forest around Anor Londo, coat in hand and clothes she didn’t mind to get dirty, she had to choke down a laugh.

“I know this isn’t fancy at all, so, if you want to turn back, we can go to another place… Wherever you like, seriously!” Artorias voice were full of concern.

“Of course not! I want to see the place where you want to go, I’m curious.”

And it was true. Taking a walk into the forest has never been one of her passions. Whenever she had free time there were more interesting things for her to do, and if she wanted to take a walk she liked wherever there were people around. Solitude was not her thing, always needing to have her mind distracted either with an activity, observing a person or talking with someone. It was unlike Artorias, who could spent days out there just for the sake of returning with charged energies. And so, she wanted to see what he liked so much about it, where did he spend his time out there.

Artorias looked visibly relieved, and smiled shyly. “I hope you like it. I go there from time to time when I’m tired of patrolling.”

“Ornstein doesn’t get mad at you for sloping off?”

“Actually, we have an arrangement! If I am not send out, every two weeks he lets me go out for one or two days.”

Ciaran arked an eyebrow, a side grin was on her lips. “So that’s what it’s like to have the captain’s favour, I see.”

Both of them chuckled. “I don’t have his favour, and I’m sure if you told him, he will be glad to give you more days off.”

“Nah, I’m just not interested,” she said, waving her hand. “By the way, how is he?”

“The healers took off the last leg plaster this morning, so he can walk by his own now, but he is limping. And about his arm burn… well, it still looks pretty nasty.”

To the people of Lordran, their mission had been a success, bringing back the heads of the two parents wyverns there was nobody who could have said the contrary. But what had happened that day was a total chaos, and it was something that the unit could not speak about. But Ciaran, probably, she did have the captain’s favour after all, and she was told by Ornstein the reason behind his state and the less severe from two others dragon slayers that took care of him back there.

Even though on that day the luck was on their side, with one of the parents gone, probably to hunt for food, and managing to easily take the other down, when the lightning was the only thing needed to make the litter vulnerable to the archers, the prince halted, just for a second. A second that went in favor of the last of their parents. The creature arrived after hearing the screams let out in that nest, and upon seeing the start of lighting crackling in the God’s hand, he charged towards him, enraged and scared. And there was nothing more dangerous than a beast with those primal instincts mixed inside it.

Everything else happened really fast. Ornstein charged towards the dragon without a second thought, spear already imbued with lightning. His sudden movement was enough to gain the wyvern’s attention and allow his Lord to collect himself and turn his focus on the new battle. But one second he was on the ground and the next he was flying in the air. The creature clasped his teeth on his lower half and threw him with full force. A bit of fire was spat, reaching him and seeping in through the broken pieces of armour, before the creature was forced to close its mouth by the force of the prince’s weapon hitting it. An agonizing pain spreaded on his body when he hit rocks, his mind processing the tear and burn of flesh, and bones nastily broken with the impact. The next thing he saw was black.

But they winned. They brought the two heads, and the nest was burned. They were applauded and their victory celebrated. Ornstein was patched and put on treatment. But nobody talked about the prince hesitation. Probably, for some, he was just taking delight in their imminent victory.

“Ah, finally! At least, now, he won’t be all grumpy for not being allowed to get out of the bed.”

Artorias agreed with a cuckle, before returning his attention to the path, pointing the floor for Ciaran to notice the roots and not trip.

During the rest of their walk, the path they were following started to become more indistinguishable, with a certain difficult to step in a plain area as the roots were starting to cover the floor. For Ciaran there was no problem, always used to move gracefully. And she thought that Artorias would be having a harder time, but what she found instead was that he moved almost as he took that path everyday.

It also felt good to hear Artorias chatting about that forest and his time spent there. Not only because they were no longer having weird silences, something that felt as a relieve, but because he spoke with such happiness about it that it was making Ciaran start to want going here by herself. And when it seemed the path was starting to be cleared out of roots, they came to a clearing with a lake in the middle of it. 

It was really beautiful, and peaceful, and Ciaran immediately understood why Artorias always went there. She also understood why he asked her to bring a coat. Despite the winter was close to its end, here, so deep in the forest, the air was still really cold.

Ciaran followed him to a tree, where Artorias sat down with his back resting against the tree bark, and took a seat besides him. She didn’t know how much they have been walking, but the rest was very much welcomed.

“Not a lot of people know about this clearing,” Artorias said, “I found it many years ago on our way to an expedition. I hope you like it. And, you know, we can go back whenever you want...”

“I do like it, Artorias” Ciaran smiled tenderly. “Thanks for showing me this place.”

He returned the smile, taking a deep breath, his eyes trailing her face. Then, he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped right away, averting his eyes. Ciaran arched an eyebrow, and without thinking, her hand moved by its own to his arm.

“What were you going to say?”

His cheeks turned red at the same time he started to mumble, “I just… I think... You look beautiful.”

For the first time, Ciaran, who always came out with a sort of an answer, she found at a lost of words. Her cheeks got the same colour as his when she smiled shyly.

At last, their date wasn’t special as someone could have expected. With so many years of friendship between them, there wasn’t the common nervousness of getting to know someone new, learning their likes and getting used to the other’s habits. There was already comfort in their proximity, in the way they behaved around each other, and fondness in their shared stories they took delight in remembering. 

Along the afternoon, they growed more confident and more caress were shared between them. Fingers stroking her cheek, a hand playing with his hair, a hand lingering on her leg, an arm around her shoulders. For a while, Ciaran rested her head against his arm and they remained quiet, only watching the light reflecting on the water’s lake.

No, their date wasn’t special, but Ciaran felt like being there with Artorias was like returning home after a hard day.

But their peaceful silence was broken by Artorias’ stomach. Ciaran couldn’t help but let out a chuckle after seeing his red cheeks, and turned to grab the bag she has been carrying all this time, making appear two sandwiches, one of them significantly bigger, which was the one she handled to the startled Artorias.

“I saw you almost didn’t eat at lunch, so I prepared something for you. I hope you like it.”

Artorias blinked out his astonishment and chuckled shyly. “I… Thank you.” Then, he unwrapped the food, taking a big bite and humming in the act. “This is really good, Ciaran!”

She smiled, eating from his own food too. “I’m glad you think so. Between the work and all, I haven’t had a lot of time to keep practicing and I wasn’t feeling comfortable to do something more elaborated.”

“Ey, this is really good.” He pointed. “Also, I think this is the first time I eat something you’ve made.”

Ciaran lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, come on, this is only a sandwich, everybody knows how to do that.” Then, she hummed thouthfully. “So far, only Gough and Ornstein had really tasted something I’ve made, sorry about that.”

“This is still food, right? Not everybody has the technique to do a perfect sandwich. And you’ve nailed it!”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “I can’t believe you.”

“I’m serious! Long ago, I had a friend that made the worst sandwiches ever, he made the weirdest of combinations and then he gave them all to our unit and waited for us to eat them. If I haven’t known him better, I would have said that he did it on porpoise and enjoyed seeing us suffering, but the poor man really believed that they were pretty good!”

“All right, all right,” Ciaran chuckled after hearing Artorias’ laugh. “But I think I can do much better though. Next time I can prepare you a real food.”

For a solid second, Artorias only observed her, his mouth slightly opened. “Next… time?”

And Ciaran hold her breath, feeling her face a bit hot. “Oh, I mean, only if you want, of course.”

“But… as an another date?” Artorias’ face when she nodded made her feel tickles in her stomach, and she couldn’t help her giggle when he started to stumble in his own words. “I… I would like to… I mean, if that’s is fine with-”

A sudden whimper made him felt shut and turn his gaze to some shrubs on their left. Ciaran followed suit, frowning in a concern expression.

“What was that?” She asked, shifting his body so she could get up quickly. “A beast?”

“It didn’t… sounds like one. I’m going to get a look.” He handled her his half-eaten food before raising to his feet, approaching the shrubs in just a few steps.

“What? Artorias, it could be dangerous. And you are unarmed!”

He waved with his hand in a dismissed way. “Don’t worry, Ciaran! We can always run. Let’s see…”

She let out an strangled noise, getting up at the same time Artorias bent over and separated the leaf with his hands. Then, when his eyes roamed the area under it, he let out a surprised noise.

“Ciaran, it’s just a dog!”

“A dog? Here?” She grimaced in confusion.

Walking towards him, unsure if it was actually a good idea, Ciaran also took a look at the floor. A white ball of fur was curled up, with black eyes fixed on Artorias and ears bent backwards. One of its back legs was sticking out weirdly, and she guessed that was the reason why it hasn’t run out yet.

“Aw, poor thing…” Artorias quickly grabbed his food from Ciaran’s hand, cutting a piece and offering it to the creature. Once the sandwich was on display, the tail split from the little ball, waggling just once before returning to meet the rest of the fur. “Here! Take it! You must be hungry if you’ve spent all this time here with a broken leg.”

A bit unsure whether it was safe or not, the dog sniffed the food and nibbled it, before starting to almost devour it. Artorias chuckled at its reaction, and while the dog was cleaning its mouth with its tongue, he tried to get his hand closer, moving it slowly to not scare the animal. Once again, the dog sniffed at the thing put in front of its eyes, and as it didn’t flinch nor it looked about to bite Artorias, he took the liberty to start scratching its head.

The dog seemed to like it and Artorias looked at Ciaran with the biggest of smiles. “See! It’s not a beast, just a scared puppy.”

Ciaran sighed. “You could have your hand bitten, and who knows if this dog has any weird illness… Besides, I don’t think it’s a puppy, Artorias… It looks bigger,” she pointed. “What if it’s a wolf?”

“White wolves leave this area before the spring comes, Ciaran. They only live in snowy places and the snow melted here long ago.”

As the animal didn’t seem annoyed by the touchy affection, Artorias used the opportunity to feed it once more with the rest of the sandwich and raise it from the floor, cupping it in his arms.

“Maybe it gets separated from its family. After all,” Ciaran continued, “the paw is broken.” 

“We should do something about it.”

“Do what?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Artorias if you are thinking about taking it to the castle...”

“And what other thing should I do? Now I can’t leave the dog here!”

Ciaran scratched her nape, looking at the supposed dog in his arms with a grimace. “If Ornstein see you entering with a wolf… He is going to kill you. You know that animals, tamed or not, are not allowed inside.”

“It’s not a wolf, it’s a dog! And Ornstein won’t know about it.” Artorias said convinced, then, he turned his attention to the ball curled in his arms and talked with a high-pitched tone. “Once this cute friend had its paw healed I will let it free, all right?”

He started to scratch its head, and as a response, the dog, kind of wolf, started to wave its tail once more. From the look on Artorias face, she knew there would be nothing to convince him to leave the animale there.

Ciaran wouldn’t say it aloud, but once she got a good look at the dog, looking all happy for being hold even with a broken leg, she shrunk inside, starting to feel bad for even considering leaving it behind.

“Fine, Artorias.” She said with a sigh. “Do what you will.” 

They returned to the castle right away. On their way back, Artorias didn’t stop thinking about what he would do next with the dog and where he should hide it.

Ciaran was fast to offer to keep an eye on his room and not let anybody approach it. How? She would need to start thinking on good excuses. Deep down, she was starting to regret her decision.

From time to time, Ciaran gave a look to the animal, who seemed to be comfortable all snuggled in Artorias arms, and whenever their eyes looked, she could see how it waves its tail. Half-way, Artorias decided to carefully rise it and announced that it was a girl, and Ciaran just felt the urge to warn him to not start growing fond of her.

To get the dog inside the castle would prove difficult. They wrapped her in Ciaran’s coat and needed to wait for a long while after the dog calmed down with Artorias’ strokes, assuring her that nothing bad would happen. But, even if she didn’t seem a vocal dog at first, when they passed the front door guards, she started to snarl. The first impulse of Artorias was to start coughing loudly and run inside, which gained him a couple of weird looks. Ciaran needed to stop a groan to escape from her throat before saying good night to the guards.

Never before, the way to Artorias’ room felt endless. To prevent the dog to start snarling and stir whenever a Silver Knight crossed their ways, they needed to hide in every corner with the dog facing away the knights and Artorias shushing her to calm her down. And by chance, that night, they seemed to cross paths with every knight on patrol.

“This is the first and last time I’m doing this,” Ciaran sighed, relieved once Artorias’ door was closed behind her.

Artorias sighed too, leaving the dog in his bed. “I’m going to wash her, she is a bit stinky. And I’ll see if I can find something here to make her leg still.”

“Then, I’m going to change my clothes, and I’ll see if I find some water and something more for her to eat.”

Artorias moved to her side, putting her hand on her shoulder and squishing it softly. “Thank you for helping me, Ciaran.” She looked up, his smile was making her melt. “I’m sorry that our date was cut off abruptly.”

“Don’t worry, Artorias. And besides, we have a second date, right? So don’t bother about it.”

He nodded and for a moment, they just only looked into each other’s eyes, until Artorias promptly bent down and placed a kiss on Ciaran’s cheek. When she looked at him in such proximity, he cleared his throat, standing up straight with his face all red.

“I should get going,” she announced, giggling.

“Sure!” He mumbled, opening the door for her. “Of course!”

On her way to her room, Ciaran couldn’t stop the smile on her face nor how her mind wandered on what had happened on their date. And that simple kiss, as silly as it sound, made her felt happy, excited and warm. There was a mixture of emotions inside her. She felt like floating in a cloud, and even started to entertain herself with the improbable idea of asking so soon for another permit so she could enjoy being close to Artorias once again. Maybe they could kiss this time.

But, then, when a limping figure approached her, she snapped back to reality.

“Shouldn’t you be resting on your chambers?” She asked, lifting one eyebrow in a questioning manner.

“Shouldn’t you be on a date with Artorias?” Ornstein stopped in front of her, his good hand leaning on the wall to support his weight. 

Ciaran looked at his eyes after taking a good look at his burned arm. Artorias surely came up short with its description. His arm looked so grotesque she wondered why he wasn’t writhing in pain.

“We’ve just arrived.”

He hummed, with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “How did it went?”

“Pretty well. But I… Now, I need to change my clothes, I’m a bit tired, we’ve been walking a lot.”

“Sure. Wish you a good rest.”

He pushed himself off the wall, but looked down when Ciaran’s voice sounded in the corridor.

“Ornstein, now seriously, you shouldn’t be walking around. Where are you going this late?” 

She smiled slyly when he took a sharp breath, averting his eyes after blinking. “I’m going to the infirmary.”

“You know,” Ciaran chuckle softly, “the infirmary is in the other way. And this one leads to Pri-”

Ornstein’s good hand was suddenly on her head, tossing her hair, maybe a bit harshly. But she couldn’t help but laugh. “Good dammit, Ciaran, it’s none of your business. Just go to your room!”

“All right, all right! Calm down,” she said, running her hand through her hair to put it in place. “I wish you… a good night, then. Have fun! And maybe think about a better excuse...”

Just when Ciaran finished talking, she walked away with a grin, deciding to ignore Ornstein’s sharp look and the red climbing to his cheeks. Behind her, Ciaran heard a sigh that matched the resigned tone which Ornstein spoke with.

“Yeah, yeah... Have a good night you too.”

She shook her head, smiling. 

On the corridor, only Ornstein’s steps, heading to the prince chambers, and her own leading to her room could be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all! Hope you all liked this story, and thank you so much for reading this so far, and for all the wonderful comments and kudos! They all meant a lot! 💕💕
> 
> Tumblr: @taroris  
> Twitter: @tarorissu


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